


Leorio Goes to RadioShack

by SilverSphere



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: 1990s, Action, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - 1990s, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Nen, Childhood, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Hunter X Hunter Big Bang, HxHBB20, Illustrations, M/M, Mild Language, Musical References, My First Fanfic, Parenthood, Present Tense, References to Drugs, Shopping, Shopping Malls, Suspense, Team as Family, WTF, Weird Plot Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:33:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 28,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25010173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverSphere/pseuds/SilverSphere
Summary: Leorio needs his watch fixed. The nearest place? A humble RadioShack nestled within the largest mall in this part of the country.Meet back here in the food court at 12 PM sharp doesn’t mean what he hoped it would mean. Everyone’s mall adventure splits at the entrance and slowly and surely goes off the rails into different directions. By the time everyone finally meets up, It’s hard to process what happened to each other in so little time.
Relationships: Hisoka/Illumi Zoldyck, Kurapika/Leorio Paladiknight
Comments: 51
Kudos: 83
Collections: Hxhbb





	1. ON YOUR MARKS, GET SET, GO!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there, this fic was inspired by Vegas Vacation and this one 90’s commercial where a [young Seth Green is playing Nerf in a Mall](https://youtu.be/JR9aoI6YByc).  
> It's light fluff and crack modern AU scenarios but there is a definite unfolding plot told through parallel story threads.
> 
> It’s rated G/T so basically “Comic Mischief” like the sims or cartoons. There’s some occasional swear words and some drug reference but there is no exceptional violence or anything. There are some rom themes and pairings but they are in service to the story. The low rating is a self-imposed constraint where I focused my best instead on keeping it lively with a lot of comedy, suspense, references, irony.
> 
> I drew some character title card dividers to help clue you in on the character POV changes. (yay visuals)
> 
> This fic is finished, so expect it to update on the weekly.
> 
> Wow this is my first finished fic so uh be nice and I hope you enjoy it!

###### 

####  ??? AM 

Leorio looks at his watch. “Darnit. Kurapika what’s the time?”

Kurapika daintily looks at his wrist watch - “8:30.”

A childish moan rises up from the backseat.

“Why’s it so eeeearly!”

“Because LINES.”

The wipers clear off another golden swathe of morning precipitation from the windshield.

The Tarzan OST is softly playing on the CD player. 

Dancing and humming along quietly in the passenger seat is Kurapika.

“Ugh,” Leorio groans, and punches the player off. _“!*#$ Phil Collins..”_

Pika casts him a skeptical glance. “Hey, now.” He combs the back of his hair with his hand and looks the other way.

“Didn’t RadioShack go out of business or something anyway?”

“NO. It’s 1999 Kurapika, we are on the verge of the newest greatest millenium in history. They could not do without RadioShack.”

Killua grins at Gon and kicks the back of the driver’s seat.

Fatherly tension rises up.

"YOU BETTER NOT DO THAT AGAIN OR I'LL, I'LL--"

Kurapika's voice gently steps in."Let's just have a normal, regular day at the mall _okay?_ "

The car pulls into the parking lot.

* * *

## THE MEGA MALL: LARGEST MALL IN THE STATE

###### December 4th 1999, 9AM (A Saturday)

OUR PARTY IS HERE ON A RARE OCCASION.THIS FRIGGIN MALL TAKES AN HOUR TO DRIVE TO so our friends don’t make it there often. This all started because Leo’s got a broken watch and thought what the hey, this is clearly the most stimulating radioshack location he can think of. Kurapika wants to do some shopping as he is wont to do, and for the kids I don’t need to tell you that in the 90’s the mall is the epicenter for socializing, and an opportunity for their guardians not to mind them. This is a play date of many colors.

One thing you will notice by walking into this mall is its pale, marble-y exterior, and this mall my friend has multiple levels. FOUR. Looking up at the ceiling with the different cake layers of floors.. People walking around on shelves gives you a sense of vertigo for a second, but it passes. 

I also gotta tell you, the dusty rose and wedgewood colors, despite being maybe a 10 years out of date paint job, fit the overall kitschy vibe. It feels like the set to Miami Vice, so most of the pillars and crown mouldings and so on have this pale frosty 80’s palette and with the neon signs everywhere, woof, you’ll get dizzy on a window shopping sprint. Take it at a nice pace though. These white cement barrel-shaped planters everywhere are stuffed with waxy fronded tropical plants really break up the capitalist artifice and give the eyes a rest. I wonder what keeps them alive, anyway? It must be the atrium-like skylights in the ceiling filtering down light in splashes of bright sunny rectangles on the sporadically populated benches and commons areas. The inner sanctum of the mall is big enough that it has its own breeze, especially felt in the central crossroads of wings where it lightly licks off the decorative fountains and miniature waterfalls.

We’re in an upscale neighborhood close to the beach. You can tell it’s warm out, even from the classy and cold interior somehow. It’s actually the late winter months of the year right now, but not close enough to Christmas to feel festive by any stretch. The climate - a pleasant 75 - is like spring dew on your skin and Indian summer sun in your hair; the disembodied voice of a news anchor is telling you that temperatures are expected to rise into the late 80s in the early afternoon. The balm in the air encouraging everyone to still dress like they will hit the beach or boardwalk in a few hours. Well dressed men in business suits and ladies in simple pretty summer slips are a common sight as well as teenagers in colorful tank tops and sashed hoodies gathered around talking by the penny pool and glass elevator.

Now let’s zoom in on our crew.

## The Mall South Entrance

###### Food Court

Leorio is pacing these glassy economy-size floor tiles.

“I’m going to RadioShack to get new batteries for my watch. I’m giving my **card** to **Kurapika** to do whatever he wants so don’t bother me for any funds. I don’t care what y’all get up to BUT you better have your butts in the food court by 12:30 for some lunch. Is that clear?”

All party members nod lazily in agreement.

“I am the only one that has a cell phone. Because it is 1999 _looks at camera_ **and mobile phones are EXPENSIVE**. I’m trusting you two.”

Gon and Killua look at each other quizzically.

“Alright,” he continues. “THIS is a clock.”

He gesticulates to an ugly brassy thing sticking out of the ground in full view of the food court.

“You won’t find one _anywhere else_ in the mall but here.” Leorio derails for a moment, getting a far-off look in his eye. “They want you to lose track of time, but we will outsmart those corporate devils.” he muses, spacing out with a hungry glare.

“What are you talking about..?” Kurapika trails off.

Leorio snaps back to reality and turns back to the crew.

“Watches everyone?” They show their watches. “HAIII.”

“Alright then. DISMISSED.”

Like the buzzer at the greyhound gate, Gon and Killua rush over to Leorio with smiles and raised grabby hands. “PLEEEAASSEEEE!!”

“BAAH! What happened to your allowance?" He croaks.

They stare unperturbed.

_[Image courtesy Noit-Art-Surf!! :D](https://noit-art-surf.tumblr.com/post/622937531781120000) _

An uncomfortable pause lapses as Leorio glares like a sour mafioso at a couple of 6 week old puppy faces. It softens his resolve. “Aghh…” He grunts and digs into his wallet and gives them a fistful of cash and they dash off. Leorio could almost imagine the numbers strapped on them and the flurry of greyhound feet in the sand. _God I gamble too much,_ Leorio thinks.

Kurapika has a different impression - that they are a flurry of pigeons scattering on a city sidewalk, so he chuckles to himself dropping the line “Excellent birds.” Something of an in-joke they have.

Leorio gets the reference immediately and hums the next line. “Watch them fly..” 

“There they go..!”

They both look at each other. A smirk spreads across Kurapika’s face.

While neither of them agree on the best lead singer of Genesis, which is infinitely Peter Gabriel in Leorio’s mind, they do enjoy a good shared joke on the matter.

Leorio laughs. “Whatever. I’ll meet you later, I know I can trust you.”

Fishing back into his deflating wallet, Leorio produces a purple credit card. 

“Here’s my card. I know you had a long week so go treat yourself, alright?”

Kurapika’s eyes zero in on the card and light up. “Bingoo."

Leorio’s expression turns sour.

“But do NOT spend $300 like last time.”

A thin devilish smile spreads across Kurapika’s face.

“I mean it!”

Kurapika takes it in two fingers and wraps his arms around Leorio’s neck for a wet smothery smooch, the kind a besodden grandma drenched in furs might do and then he lightly skips off, that excellent bird.

Leorio is left blushing and crooked for a moment like an embarrassed construction crane left at the site of absolutely nothing getting built for what seems like months and you wonder why they even leave them out there.

A romantic scene is playing across his eyelids not unlike this embarrassing Pete one I won’t even embed in this case to save your eyes... Okay I’ll embed it but it’ll be the last one for awhile:

Anyway, you know, he just maybe hangs there in that pose suffocating happily in his fantasy for a few moments before straightening up his suit jacket and walking off. 

Right now Kurapika isn’t actually thinking about anything like that, it’s more something along the lines of “What am I going to spend my money on that doesn’t top the invisible $300 limit like last time”. Eh, even if I come close, he thinks, Leo’s still got a lot of padding.

This is, of course, going to turn out okay. Nothing of note will happen by the end of this mall story. Totally a normal excursion.

Anyway, booting up our first counter - 

Kurapika’s imaginary cash limit - **0/$300**

* * *

#### 9:15 AM - Radioshack

Leorio enters the Radioshack. It is now 9:15. 15 minutes have passed since food court bootcamp roll call.

Leorio heads to the counter and has his slinky-slink fancy silver watch inspected and the right battery picked up. 

Over the radio, at the Radioshack, Phil Collins’s “Sussudio” is playing faintly. This lowers Leorio’s mood a notch as he turns over the grating lyrics in his head. The overplayed 1985 chart-topper is characterized by an annoyingly catchy refrain “Suss-suss-sudio” and the absolute brainmelt of this lyric puts this song on many people’s “worst pop song of all time” lists.

The sad part is, Leorio can start to relate to the song because it’s Phil Collins pining for a beauty. This volatile realization runs counter to the very fabric of his being and heats up his veins, he starts feeling pissed.

**Phil rage meter - ¼**

The attendant now has the watch opened up. “Quite a timepiece,” he says. He inserts the battery with a pair of tweezers and the watch comes back to life, seconds hand chasing around the perimeter. He holds it up to his ear. “The ticker is awfully loud though. Might want a real Patek Philippe technician for that.”

The counter guy is busy setting the backplate when a curious patron spies the timepiece and walks up to the counter, setting an impudent elbow down.

“How much do you want for that watch?” He says, looking intently.

“Haaaahh??” Leorio whirls around and challenges in his typically fake yakuza voice. Dressed in a nice dark suit only helps pull off the paper-thin challenge. But the rage is believable.

The stranger is unphased by his display. “The watch,” he says, “I want to buy it.”

Leorio sizes up the customer skeptically. He’s looking like a scammer or something, a thin framed man with a penetrating gaze and a toothpick hanging out of his mouth with something of a keen smile.

Why would this loser want my watch anyway! He thinks. The song meanwhile lurches inbetween the sentences of his thoughts. _Sussussudio. Grk._

The two start to bicker, The customer’s throwing out numbers. ‘1..3..4..5 hundred…!’ Leorio is growing tense, not giving an inch, until he eventually shuts down with bared teeth. _Sussussudio._

‘My Grandma! My Grandma’s the one who gave me this! **“Not For Sale!”’** Leorio slams the counter. The argument lasts only a few minutes really, but it rattles the store to a degree that there is no arguing further.

Zepile walks away dejectedly.

Throughout the exchange the attendant at the counter was quite distracted with the show, while screwing in the backplate and setting the time it so happens that Leorio’s watch has jumped backwards an hour, oops. Leorio thanks the man at the counter and exits the store an hour younger.

* * *

####  9:15 AM 

The mall noise hangs lazily in the air.

We are at a gaudy fountain now encircled in waxy tropical palm fronds and dirty wish pennies.

A bleach-haired boy leans into the frame, casually using a raspberry-flavored sucker like a cigarette.

“Sure, the mall is where anyone cool goes to hang out.” Killua muses.

Killua is perching proudly on a food court banister that is _absolutely not for asses,_ looking all cool and _shit_ in his backwards turn’t hat.

Gon looks on in awe at this display of cool kid awesomeness.

“But where will we go first?” Young Grasshopper asks.

Killua leafs through the bills in his hands, his pace slows, he adjusts the sucker in his mouth. The river of people drift around him in slow-mo.

“What’s wrong?”

“He slipped a 50 in here, probably thought it was a 5.”

Gon’s eyes sparkle. “Maybe we should take it back though.”

“No way!” Killua hisses. “He’ll just waste it on the races tomorrow anyway.”

“Well, okay… How much do we got?”

Killua counts the fan of bills. “$75.” 

Whoah. Gon hasn’t seen that much money at once in their possession before, remarkable.

“What’ll we do with it?”

“I don’t know, I’m trying to think.”

Killua hops off the banister and stuffs his hands into his striped and cropped boardwalk hoodie. They began moving, looking up at store signs for ideas.

_Gap. Marshalls. Bath & Body Works. Pier 1 Imports. Nah._

Killua sighs and leans against a shop wall under a neon sign. But as the pair are standing in the wide hallway Killua spots a security officer passing by suddenly receiving a garbled transmission to a contraption on his hip to which he suddenly picks up to his face and responds curtly.

Killua reveals a red-stained grin.

* * *

####  9:20 AM 

The brassy clock ticks along quietly, reading 9:20.

A group of teenagers are sitting around the cheap metal tables and chairs at the food court. There are so many of them that they have pushed a pair of tables together. Ah, they’re wearing all denim jackets and childishly colorful bandanas somewhere on their person. This coupled with their general lackadaisical and loud nature makes the other patrons slightly wary.

They look like troublemakers, and the mall security is well aware of them. But they haven’t done anything so spectacularly antisocial as to get them banned.. It’s more like they are the mall’s “Geese.” Crabby bastards but altogether harmless and part of the package when you build a pond to attract the ducks and more agreeable things. Likewise when the weather’s cold they seem to f*ck off for awhile, but that’s only maybe 3 months of the year.

Today on this Saturday it is quite warm and the group is here a bit earlier than usual and look sleepy yet, but many of them prefer this habitat to staying at home. They are currently waking up drinking milkies and eating snacks.

“Gimme that one,” Uvogin reaches into the center of the table to snag a snack packet. It is kind of funny to see a massive billboard of a child rip open a tiny baggy of scooby-doo fruitsnacks and down them.

“Isn’t that like your fifth one? Leave some for the rest of us.” Nobu remarks.

“Screw off, I didn’t have any breakfast.”

“Then eat a pop-tart! There’s like a whole box here.”

“I hate cinnamon.”

Machi cuts them off. “Dudes, there’s plenty. My mom took a bunch of old stuff from our store.” 

Shizuku is sipping a chocolate milk, observing. Pakunoda is leafing through a comic and doesn’t even look up.

Feitan, eating a pack of cinnamon pop-tarts quietly, avoids bickering that cinnamon flavor is the best for the nth-time but a tired scowl fixes itself to his face.

“Jeezus I could go to my gramma’s for a better time and better food, what else are we going to do today?” Phinks cuts in, standing, arms folded.

Chrollo is seated at the “head” of the table ( of what you can call the head of two 4-seaters pushed together ). He unwraps his fruit roll-up, ignoring the eyes fixated on him for an answer.

He licks the snack and stamps it squarely on his forehead.

The table stares in astonishment at this bold-ass powermove. _Fuck authority._ Tongue tattoo for your head.

Peeling it off, a hazy greenish-blue tattoo of a tongue is left behind, like some sort of terrible fruit-snack meta joke. A tongue tattoo of a tongue? Get real, go home. Stop writing these dad jokes Betty Crocker.

Chrollo maintains a deadpan expression, but smiles thinly in self satisfaction. The table howls in laughter and a swarm of arms reach in to swipe for any of the remaining fruit roll-ups, attempting to discover the further potential for the joke.

When they are quite done, he leads off.

“Lets have some fun starting with floor 4.”

The gang looks around.

The teens scoot out and scatter; Machi swipes the remaining snacks into her mini backpack and they, of course, leave all their wrappers and garbage behind. Tsk tsk.

A newbie security guard watches the pack of feral teenagers pile up the nearest escalator and starts breaking a sweat.

“ _KShh,_ ” he goes on his walkie talkie. “The troupe is heading your way up the escalators, keep an eye out for any horseplay. _Over._ ”


	2. ONE KING TO RULE THE MALL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Each party's motives start to form.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late. I know I said I'd release every week or two XD I entered a loop of editing. When I handed in this fic for beta-ing it had the main thoroughline written, but I was aware there were blank spots that could use filling as well as some shaky plot ties that I know could be strengthened. Due to that I've nearly doubled the story in length, it's hard to let poor writing go unattended but eesh it's been awhile and I want to birth this baby and be done. The hard part for me has been that this story is heavily threaded parallel adventures with multiple points of view, which is definitely the kind of chaos and nonsense I enjoy, but it also makes it pretty hard to keep track of. As I don't have a beta anymore I worry if it will make sense, so I keep editing. The goal has been to keep the chapters fun to read on its episodic thread levels, as well as advance the general sense of plot. If you're reading this, thanks for sticking with me!

###### 

* * *

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* * *

* * *

* * *

####  9:30 AM - walkie talkie GET 

$39.99 dollars later, the two have a pair of cheap walkie-talkies.

 _Woosh…!_ They dart out of the store. 

Killua is hugging the bright shiny red box.

“You didn’t think I was going to steal it, did you? We have a ton of money.”

“I don’t know, I saw you looking at the cop’s walkie talkie and got worried.”

“I’m not THAT bad am I?” Killua complained. “But it’s not fair only Leorio gets a mobile phone. But this’ll work instead.” I guess you helped us out after all, _thanks Leo._

Indeed, the most popular model this year is the Nokia 3210, everyone’s favorite brick, which kicked off the beginning of teen cell phone culture ( for the lucky and popular few ). It is understandable Killua would want one, he’s seeing privileged kids on tv and at school have them. Retailing at around $200, it’s a lot more accessible than the previous Nokia 6110’s price point of $900, leading to this early cell phone boom. But it is still out of reach for our young friends who dream teen dreams.

Phones require contracts and other busy adult stuff to which Leorio would flatly say no. It’s not like they’re his kids anyway, right? 

But inspiration and opportunity struck here in the mall in the form of simple radio communicators. And maybe a little extra cash.

They have both ripped open the box and exhumed the walkie talkies from their plastic and foam bedding, directions be damned. The chonky red bricks are already in their hands, fingers eagerly punching all over to figure out how they work. Then they scatter off to see how well they work at a distance.

Gon runs off behind a decorative pillar, peeking out eagerly.  
Killua is acting cool among a circle of court vendors, sunglasses perched on his nose like some secret agent. He can’t help but smile though when he catches Gon looking at him.

Gon whispers into his talkie.

Kshh-

“ET phone home~” Gon’s voice crackles over the speaker.

“Eheh, I need T.P. for my bunghole...” Killua rasps back.

“Heehee”

“Look Killua, there’s a switch on the side.” _Kshh./ ___

____

____

Killua switches it on.

 **“What’s this do?”** He has a morbidly deep voice now, making the answer obvious.

“Oh my gosh!!!” Gon flicks it on immediately.

**“This is great!”**

**“Say something in a deep guy’s voice”**

**“Luke… Come to the dark side”** AHahahaha.

They dart off into the mall saying silly things into their walkie talkies.  


* * *

####  9:30 AM - The Bag 

Jet lag makes you ache all over, and tired at all kinds of odd hours of the day. Leorio would never know when Kurapika was in “morning” mode and thus grumpy, since it could be any time of the day. But he was a good sort about it.

Kurapika had an unusual job history, but at its most recent he was a TSA agent that then switched to Sky Marshall. At first he thought it’d be good to transition from TSA inspector; he had a short fuse and didn’t enjoy the guff people were giving him during frisk and search. All Sky Marshalls had to do was board the plane as a regular passenger, take a seat, and blend in while keeping an eye out for any sort of trouble. Easy, right? But it was pretty boring. He was trained for the worst, such as hijackings, but it’s not like a plane hijacking would happen anytime soon.

The job has all kinds of perks though, you get to see all sorts of places in the world, and good food, lodging, he even gets to hit an attraction or two before boarding the next plane. He likes bringing home a souvenir for Leorio since the novelty hadn’t worn off one bit to him. But the trips are on a tight schedule, your legs and back always hurt, so in the end really you find out where you most want to be is at home. There, there are always some happy faces waiting for him. Florida is nice, Kurapika thinks to himself, as he heads into the familiar faux-marble gateway into his favorite luxury store. A little ritz doesn’t hurt though.

He’s had a feeling he’s needed a new men’s leather shoulder bag to carry things while he’s out traveling. His old one has gotten a bit coarse. There’s one he’s had an eye on for awhile now, black with little accent marks giving it an air of elegance, almost like a little suitcase. So it takes him no time at all to go in, ring it up, and come out $110 lighter. 

He’s positively glowing with his purchase - suddenly today feels more special!

As he is leaving, a crowd of eager kiosk attendants at a manicure and eyebrow threading stall coax him over with compliments. In too good of a mood to be mad at the attention, Kurapika is slowly reeled in like a fish on a wire. 

“You! You there,” They call out. Kurapika makes a face like _what, me??_

“Yes, you!!”

“Oh no, I couldn’t.”

He hesitates, but the ladies smell a sale when they see it and surround him, leading him into their leather chair. At this point he has snapped out of his spending euphoria but it’s hard to escape now that he’s seated.

Right away, colorfully clawed fingers are stroking his hair and brushing his eyebrows.

“You, sir, are a diamond in the rough.”

“...Is that so?” Kurapika is flattered but struggling not to show it. He’d gotten attention like this before as a youngster, being fair-featured, but not so much at this stage in his life. He could see his face starting to weather with the big three-oh’s and so he hadn’t bothered so much anymore.

“With just a little eyebrow threading and some facial treatment.. You will have the face of the GODS.”

“Yeah, when I saw you coming over, I thought you were a model for a second. Wow! Look at those cheekbones.”

Kurapika blushes.

A couple of girls already seated near him getting serviced look over to see if it’s true, and they giggle. “Wow, he is handsome. Whoever they are, they’re lucky their man is making such an effort. Are you going to get the nails done, too?”

“Oh yes, let’s do those nails too, I’ll throw it in for free.”

“Good idea!”

Kurapika reels. “I’m not so sure, let’s pass that one up.”

“Relax, it’ll be a _“man-icure.”_ " She says it with confident emphasis.

Oh, what the heck. I guess getting cleaned up isn’t such a bad idea. Maybe he could surprise someone.

The card dreamily wafts out of Kurapika’s hands and into the attendants fingers. Kurapika leans back in the comfy pleather chair as experienced technicians floss his face and two on either side start work on a most wondrous nail job.

The little golden watch slides off Kurapika’s wrist and gets set aside. 

When they are quite done with him, he looks in the mirror and is a bit shocked. His eyebrows are so thin, beautifully angled and sharp now! And his fingernails feel so thick, but he supposes that is how it feels when you get them polished up and coated with that glassy sealant or whatever it is. 

He’s startled enough by the new changes that when he gets up and leaves, he remembers his expensive new bag - but forgets his little gold watch.

 **Watches incapacitated: 1.5/4**  
Leo’s watch - incorrect time  
Pika’s watch - missing  
Gon’s watch - intact  
Killua’s watch - intact  


* * *

####  9:30 AM - LEO AND THE ART DEALER 

Leorio passes a Fine Arts store which catches his eye. No self respecting art store would play Phil Collins.

“Hello~. “ A familiar voice greets from back in the store somewhere. 

“Whuh- What??” Leorio leans in through the beaded doorway, getting beads stuck on his glasses annoyingly.

“Didn’t expect to see you back so soon. Come to take me up on my offer?” Zepile muses.

“You run an art store?” He asks, scanning across the wall. 

“I sell local artist originals but prints of more famous artists also.”

“What with the beaded curtain and shady interior I thought you’d be selling something a little more interes-suss-ting.”

Zepile’s expression sours, toothpick hanging from his lower lip. “Well it works for me.”

It looks like a very quiet place with incense burning, art prints on the walls.. Sort of like if a chic eastern zen store that bumped beds with a NYC hole in the brick-wall studio. No one else is around.

All these paintings look pretty annoying in an upper-echelon sort of way, Leorio thinks. All abstract paintings and photo prints of things he’s never seen, nothing he really recognizes.

“You got anything classic in here?” Leorio raises quizzically. “Something a normal person would know.” He’s leafing through an oversized prints bin. Flick, flick, flick. “Ah - like this one. The Mona Lisa!” Leorio pulls the print out of the collation with a substantial Aha. “The most beautiful painting in the world.”

Leorio looks closer at it. “Wait a minute, why does she have a mustache..” Indeed.

“Ahhh! You’ve got an eye for the classics alright! That’s one of Duchamp’s readymades, ‘L.H.O.O.Q.’”.

“What? What does that mean?”

“It’s a French pun, it means she’s.. Ahh.. err…” Zepile blushes deeply and motions with his hand for Leorio to lean in closer.

 _“Whs shs hsshh…”_  


Leorio eyes widen and he blushes deeply also. “WELL,” he says, tucking the print back neatly into the bucket. “Not today.”

“Oh I thought for sure you were a collector, my mistake.”

“How do you figure?”

“Well, the snazzy suit, the gold-rimmed glasses, the watc-er, you know,” He trailed on, spinning his wrist. “A man who’s got a subconscious propensity for spotting quality or atleast a sizable amount of luck. I bet you’re a good gambler.”

Leorio balks indignantly but is secretly eager to own the compliment. 

“MAYBE,” he says, “I make my way to the racetrack on Sundays and have been known to pick a winning four-legger now and then.”

“Have you ever tried investing in art? It’s similar to gambling. Never know whose value will go up or down, takes a lot of guessing and foresight. And you seem like a smart man.”

“Well, that may be true, but I wouldn’t be able to tell an expensive blob from a poor one... Dogs are a bit easier to suss-ize up.”

“You don’t need to, just trust me. They’re all brilliant because I picked them out.”

“Maybe some other time, when I’m rich.”

“That’s too bad.” Zepile sighs. “I don’t get a lot of traffic in here. Not a lot of people understand avante-garde, abstract expressionism, da-da, suprematism, ..”

“I can’t say I do either.” Leorio responds boredly. “But I bet I could do this one, or that one..” He’s pointing at some of the abstracts.

“Oh please.” Zepile rolls his eyes. “Come back to me after you’ve studied art and gone through a few gallery shows. An amateur like you doesn’t know what he’s looking at. You couldn’t make art this brilliant with no experience.”

“Ehhh????” Leorio challenges shrilly. “Beg your pardon? I may not do art routinely but I know what looks good.”

“Oh yeah smart guy? What do you know about art? It’s one thing to criticize it, another thing entirely to make it.”

Leorio looks stricken a bit, caught in the lie.

Then he lights up.

Leorio taps his forehead. “ There’s naive art, folk art. Someone I know collects that. No training.. Even someone like me could do that. Also,” He takes a print off the table and does some sort of circular wavy motion with it. “Performance art. Like theatre, but just spontaneously in the moment, you know..” He looks expectantly to see if his examples are flying.

“Performance art? Get out of here, you clown. Nothing can come close to matching the visual arts.”

“Tch! Fine!” 

After Leorio leaves, Zepile spits his toothpick in the trash.

“Stupid bastard doesn’t know he has a limited run $300,000 Patek Philippe wristwatch. Hope he trashes it.”  


* * *

####  9:30 AM - 4th floor CONVENE FOR THE PLAN 

On the 4th floor there are a lot of cafes because it is a bit quieter and the expensive people like to while their time away drinking coffee and reading books under the incredibly expansive blue skylights. Chrollo takes this opportunity of their inattention to lighten their loads without being noticed. Mostly pursepicking. Then next, generally, he takes any monetary earnings and buys some food from the vendors, or whatever it is the spiders have their eyes on at the moment. Today, though, the rich folks seem a bit jumpy, and Chrollo doesn’t wind up with much of anything except an empty pocketbook and some coupons he thought were money for a sec. 

This work is a bit too skilled and ballsy for the regular Spiders crew, but nonetheless they watch Chrollo’s back and signal to him when a security officer or other pair of eyes is coming.

Frustrated from today’s small haul, Chrollo takes himself to a nearby commons area and sits down on a puffy couch, his minions eagerly crowding around him. 

“Shall we go ahead with the plan, Luce?” 

He rolls his head back skyward over the backrest, and smiles faintly. “Whatever you want to do, mis amigos.” 

The Spiders are buzzing with excitement. 

“Report back with anything interesting.” Chrollo picks some errant lint off the couch and throws it on the ground, then snuggles up and looks about ready to take a nap.

The spiders trompe away, clearly each holding something under their jackets.

After a pause, Pakunoda speaks up. “Lately, it doesn’t seem as if Chrollo is really all that enthusiastic about the plan. We’ve been putting effort into it full steam the past few weeks. But you’d think if he was interested in it, he’d come along to watch or give us a hand.”

“Nah, he just trusts us so much. He’s Boss! Bosses don’t have to watch their underlings work.”

“Yeah, we’d really be in trouble if they caught him. He needs to call the shots from the shadows. If we get caught it’s okay, but if he does then it’s game over for the whole group.”

“He knows how these things work.”

She still feels doubtful. “I think he was just saying what we wanted to hear.”

“What do you mean?” Shizuku asks coolly.

“Well, haven’t you noticed? Every time we gear up now he splits off or takes a nap. We were the ones who cooked up the idea of claiming all this as our territory. He got into mall scuffles when we met him, true, but he just acted the rogue. It’s been bugging me for awhile but I don’t think Chrollo had anybody until we came in, and we offered a fun diversion. But the past few weeks we’ve been so tense about the current wager, he just tries to make us laugh and ignores the actual direction of things, like he did this morning.”

The crew looks uneasy. They love how Chrollo takes the edge off of things with his unfazed composure and deadpan humor. They didn’t consider that he might not care whether the plan cinched or folded. Paku’s words plucked a string.

Phinks, starting to boil, turns around and points a nerf gun in her face. “Don’t question the boss, at all costs! Do you want to make the group fall apart!?” Pakunoda squints and stays silent after that.  


* * *

## TO OWN THE MALL

To the Spiders, who spent most their free time at the mall, the mall was the epicenter of teenage social life. But at the time it was full of kids from nearby schools, resulting in frequent antagonism over who gets to use what space. There was one teen who didn’t seem to belong to any school faction; Chrollo, but he was a bit of a creepy unhinged type who fought without much regard to anything -- making him easier to gang up against rather than with, except for some newcomers like Machi and Phinks who went to a sheltered private school and who saw him as a walking shield and later an inspiration. They had a softening effect on Chrollo, too, who started to talk more openly and let them in on advice about handling others. He was actually quite smart, but fiercely independent. They, despite their differences, decided to buoy up Chrollo; they saw the potential in defining their space, which started out as a small idea but seemed to progressively grow larger. Soon just a dinky lounge space for the group wasn’t enough, they wanted ousting power in other areas of the mall. They came up with the desires and Chrollo would tell them how it could be done.

Other would-be mall rats and rat gangs took notice and came down on them, but being disorganized rag-tags they’d eventually been ousted or forced to submit. Even a few of the spider members were proper deflections and subdued enemies now riding under the same flag.. Now a figurehead, Chrollo was the picture of “the real world” outside the mall to these preppy bullies. Everyone seemed to have an infatuation with Chrollo’s leadership; he was a true blue punk and as streetsmart as it goes. He taught them most of what they learned about tricking and intimidating people and how to avoid run-ins with security. Bit by bit obstacles fell away until, as once declared by a spread-armed Chrollo seized in the moment, they’d own the mall. 

All except one tiny sector of it: The Arcade. A real tough kid had that room down under lock and key. The Spiders could not oust him by normal means of intimidation. Even though he was around their age, he gave off the impression of a much more dangerous and sharp witted person than they’d dealt with before. He was called the Cabinet King, he was unnaturally good at what he did. The guy seemed to have limitless time on his hands too, didn’t he go to school? Maybe he worked there.. A son of the owner perhaps? Either way, under his wing anyone could get into the arcade completely uncontested by the spiders. It made it a hotspot for Spider enemies.

Not getting anywhere by force and desperate for a foothold, they challenged the King at his own game. The spiders agreed to a bet that if they could manage to top any 5 of his highest scores before the year was out, the king would agree to leave the premise. Hearing something to the tune of a game, he gladly obliged. The only problem was, he topped most of the tables by a landslide. This was an oversight.

After a while, the Spiders ran out of any spare money and started resorting to frisking cash and shaking down Arcade patrons for extra coins. The plan was to amass enough arcade coins that, by brute force, they could beat some of the cabinets and claim the arcade as their territory. But no matter how many coins they pumped into the project, even their best players weren’t able to snag the top slot on all 5. So far they’d only conquered 1 and that was due to much investigation and training on Shalnark’s part ( He owned a consumer version of a game at home ). The arcade king’s iron grip was keeping them one chip short of entire mall domination. Being that it’s December 4th, the spiders are running out of time. Failure meant sure disbandment. The cabinet king made that clear in his terms.

* * *

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	3. THE ARCADENING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was one of my favorite chapters initially, the arcade is so fun.

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####  9:45 AM - The entrance to a big, gaudy mall arcade 

Inside is a cave of bright lights, flashy boxes, and damn ugly scalloped maroon and navy carpet.  
Unattended children as far as the eye can see are clinking coins in slots and shooting plastic guns and kicking stingy machines.

There’s a stark difference between the light and airy, atrium-like quality of the mall and this sudden shadowy space and dark carpet pooling out from the arcade. Most of the light is coming from the machines themselves, alternating glowing and flickering various colors with noisy themes.

All Star by Smash Mouth is playing softly in the background.

_Hey now, you're an all star  
Get your game on, go play  
Hey now, you're a rock star  
Get the show on, get paid  
And all that glitters is gold…_

The two boys grin like idiots and cross the barrier into the noisy parlor, they check the money/token rate and eyeball their fat stack palmside to see how many tokens they can get.

“We’d better be careful, we should save some so we have something to do later.”

“Yeah.. or we could just win a bunch and turn it in for.. That.” Killua points at the great, big, shiny prize wall.

Over the prize counter the bigger prizes are draped across hooks with the point totals required posted under them.

Killua is pointing to a brand new copy of [Quake III arena](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jE5b_cTZzBw), a game that came out just 2 days ago. It’s a violent multiplayer arena-style shooting game that Killua has been aching something horrible for. The blistering speed, high-octane action of a bunch of meaty guys running around a tiny map plugging each other in some fiery gothic-inspired landscape... Definitely something he couldn’t squeeze past Leo and Kurapika.  
80,000 points, holy mackerel. Is that in yen?

Gon meanwhile is taken away by the cheap prizes below the counter, particularly the magic grow capsules at a whopping 60 points (yawn).  
The packaging reads “EXPANDS TO ALMOST 600%!!!” And drawings of fearsome dinosaurs all over it, with an inset plastic blister battery of small pill shapes containing the actual colorful and crushed spongey monsters within. 

He smiles and points at it.

“I want that!!”

“Gon… you know those don’t really get that big. It says 600%... that’s like 6 times. Like.. Look.” He makes a gesture with his hands showing a vague shape about the size of a pigeon. “That’s like as big as this.”

But Gon is a kid that thinks that it means _600X_ , and he is busy imagining large ( living ) fearsome beasts roaring and stomping around like the _Godzilla 2000_ movie ads that keep playing on tv once he dunks them in the water. Killua gets exhausted trying to explain this to him, so he agrees to get them for Gon since it's his tickets too.

_3 minutes later._

“We gots the jingle jangle, Gon.” Killua is flipping his stack in his hand.

“Mhmm! What game do you want to play first, Killua?”

They spent the remainder of Leorio’s cash on a large stack of coins split evenly down the middle.

While the boys are holding their coins deciding where to start...  
Several yards away, Hisoka is watching them inside the arcade, blowing a lot of hot steam on the glass of the claw machine his hand is currently stuck in.

Hisoka is fighting the claw machine with little success. 

“Nghh NGHHH.”

The boys turn the corner.

Spotting the boys gives him hope. Yes, come closer, he thinks.

“Hi Gon, Killua…” he coquettishly wheedles.

“WHOA.” Gon looks shocked and they stop dead in their tracks.

“Hey look it’s some clown...” Killua’s face turns up disgustedly.

“After you got expelled from school I didn’t think we’d ever see you again..” Gon trails off. He putters uncomfortably.

“Don’t act too excited to see me now, I’ll get sentimental. I missed you guys.” Hisoka smiles in his best attempt to sound irritatingly genuine. All danger vibes aside, this clown is clearly incapacitated with half his arm stuck up a claw machine. Them’s the breaks.

“Would one of you boys care to help me? I saw you went and bought some tokens.. Just pop a coin into the claw machine.. It might unstick the trap here..” He trails off, before spotting the manager some distance away.

“If you do it, I’ll gladly reward you.. Anything you want..” He’s sweating. “Hurry, before the manager walks around and sees me.”

The pair look at each other. 

Their eyes agreed without saying: Hisoka = bad news. He got expelled for a reason.

“I’m sorry but Killua and I are.. Busy.” Gon mutters.

“Just takes one coin.. I’ll be your guy for the day..”

“Toodles!” Killua winks and they run off.

“WAIT! GAHHH!!!” Hisoka flails out to them with his good arm. But they are already getting on some machines and playing. He pauses, disappointed.

His sweaty red hair is hanging limp and sticking to his face with his dejected expression. 

“Fine.. I like it when things are more difficult anyway..” _huffing._

He pushes his red-ringed arm further up the claw hole and moves it around disturbing the toys in the case.

Illumi’s head pops up from the mound of toys.“Keep feelin’ around bud you almost found the prize.”

* * *

####  9:55 AM - The Ghost of Dispute's Past 

A blurry figure slowly approaches the lounge center on the fourth floor..

Chrollo peers up and recognizes the face.

Ah, it is Genthru, that gutless asshole that employs younger kids to do his bidding. He was banned from the mall after the last territory scuffle. A skeevy adult by a good fifteen years. The spiders absorbed his younger members after the fracas. His hair is spiked up now and he is wearing glasses and a white coat. How he got past security I guess.

Chrollo settles upright. “I thought you were banned from the mall.”

“I’m back, this time it’s _payback._ ” His eyes glimmer with some off-brand kind of hatred.

“You came back looking for a fight? I thought we’d settled everything last time.”

“Ha! Like I’d ever go down for good. But you’re looking pretty comfortable now, snug like a little rabbit in its hutch. You just hang out with those wannabe prep wimps. You’ve gone soft! Want to work with a real guy and pull off a massive stunt?”

_Sigh._

“I’m going to be perfectly honest. Nobody gives a damn about you, Genthru.”

Genthru, smiling like a crocodile, but gritting his teeth behind a sneer. “Ok, ok. No hard feelings. I’m just asking for a little help from you on something, for old time’s sake.”

Chrollo looks around to his left and right, as if expecting Genthru refers to some invisible friends instead of himself. “ _What? Me?_ We’re not friends.” 

“You want to ‘own the mall’ right? It’ll be hard to ‘own’ it when they gotta close it down.”

“What the hell?”

“All I need you to do is turn a blind eye to my, activities, for today. And it will all go off without a hitch. Tell your guys to stand down so I have unfettered access to the Gamestop.” Jeez what a skeever.

“Like it or not I’m ‘guarding’ this mall now from idiots like you.” Chrollo leans back in the couch condescendingly. _Kiss tha ring, bitch._

“You think you’re some kind of Yakuza!?! Bro.”

“ _You want to try me?_ The GameStop is a valuable property to us, and I saw how you disrespected them months ago. The answer is no, and I’ll call on my guys if you’re not careful.”

“Tch!”

It’s probably something weird this adult’s substance-addled mind came up with. But if it’s Genthru it was something sort of dangerous and convoluted, or else he wouldn’t be out of the game.

“Fine, I really wanted to work with you. It’s too bad. But after today you probably won’t be king of anything anymore.” 

“I sincerely don’t care. Get the #$# out of here, man. And don’t bother my friends either.”

Chrollo laid back down to rest for a little while longer.

* * *

####  10:00 AM - R&R! And R, and R, and R 

“Here, try this one too!” An elderly woman spritzes a cardboard square and wafts it in front of Kurapika’s nose. Oh God.. _I’m going to be sick._

The scent artists lead him around the store and with all the huffing he’s starting to feel dizzy and lightheaded, allowing them to shove 2 for 1 deals of whatever blah-blah trendy seasonal scent into his arms without reproach.

“Why was I here again?” Kurapika thinks hazily. Oh yeah.

It started when he was passing by Bath & Bodyworks and a woman in front of the store called out to him. At first she addressed him as miss, but quickly corrected herself without missing a beat continuing her sales pitch. Kurapika tried to fight it but it was one of those things where you just buckled in for the short sales circuit loop around the store. Except he didn’t expect to be chloroformed by candy apple cream and peppermint chill and idk something with the image of a smug polar bear drinking choccy milk? “Almond Vanilla Nut Roast”. Sugar Cookie. Mistletoe and Snow. Sweet Dreams. Sandalwood and Leather and Tobaccy for the Man in YOU. Seasonally Cinnamon Pop-Tarts ( that was a crossover promotional item, it smelled delicious ). Also clean linens, who doesn’t like to snort clean linens.

The lights are starting to blur on him. “Okay, okay ladies..” He haggardly makes his way to the cashier’s counter, defeated.

He blacks out for a minute and then he is standing outside the store with an armful of body spray and lotions, weird.

**CREDIT CARD CHARGES TO DATE  
$180  
**

He shoves the bottles in his new leather bag so maybe Leorio won’t ask right away where he got all these fresh ‘n rank stanks from? Maybe he’ll disguise some as a gift for the many years to come, for Leorio, or maybe they will just randomly appear in the house over the next couple of years,or maybe they will be offloaded one by one to his female cousins, it is certain they don’t have enough of these.

He continues walking until his consciousness bleeds back fully into his brain.

This wasn’t an entirely calculated purchase, was it?

But the next one is. The weight on his shoulder starts to twaddle his tired tendons and reminds him to make tracks for his favorite haunt, the main attraction for today: The Spa. He looks down at his watch to see if his favorite masseuse will be in yet - but oops - where’s the watch? Kurapika thinks briefly back to this morning. Oh well, can always buy another one.

He strolls into the _Heaven’s Arena Spa_ and sets his bag down.

The attendants are ready to receive him.

“The usual, Mr. Kurapika?”

“Yes, It’s been a long week, I deserve a little me-time.” He punches in Leorio’s credit card for the session.

**CREDIT CARD CHARGES  
$260  
**

Kurapika dresses down and lays flat on one of the massage beds. Incense wisps slowly out ( Do I detect notes of lavender? Sandalwood? ) as calming music plays on a nearby CD player, a little water fountain is in the back slowly burbling over the rocks. The atmosphere is amazing.

“How are things going with the Mister?” a voice says.

“Oh.. couldn’t be better… Our anniversary of the day we first met is coming up soon, I’m curious if he remembers. I already got mine ready ahead of time.”

“Aw, I’m sure he will.” The attendant consoles in soupy empathetic undertones.

“He forgot my birthday last time. I’m wondering if his attitude today and treating me to shopping and spa today is a veiled attempt at doing what he needs to do to prepare for something, haha.”

“Ooooooh!!! You think he is going to propose for engagement maybe?”

Hands lay on his back and start kneading his skin this way and that. Bliss. 

“I’m not so sure.” The more he thinks about it though, the more peculiar it becomes.  
“I don’t want to expect one thing and get something entirely different, though. It’s fine if things stay the way they are.”

“Mhhm.” 

Kurapika starts to drift off and has a daydream about being a merman in a secret cove spying some bespectacled prince in a billowy white shirt barefoot his way out into the surf alone.

* * *

####  10:08 AM - Leo and the Fortune Teller 

Leorio bursts out of the Men’s Warehouse panting, holding his arm on a wall with a disturbed look fixed on his face.

Two Phil Collins songs in a row? What is going ON in this world? He jams his hands into his pockets and jogs away, looking back.

**Phil Rage Meter: 2/4**

===

Shortly down the hall, he hears a voice.

“Hey, mister! Over here!”

Leorio whirls around. What now??

“You there, hey, you!” It was coming from a dark and incredibly small store you’d almost miss.

Above the door it says “Palm Reader” in winking neon. The doorway is decorated in purple drapery and beads.

“Uhh, Hello??” Leorio stalks over, trying to see into the darkened room.

A woman with long dark messy hair is beckoning him with long clawed fingers. Leorio is momentarily unnerved by her tense stare behind the tangles of her hair, but she is smiling.

“I’m Palm, pleased to meet you... Welcome to my fortune-telling store.”

He looks around still, distracted by the incense and fake candles. “What did you want?”

“There’s something about your aura. It is an interesting color... Could I give you a tarot reading? Please take a seat. The first one is free of charge.”

 _Mumbo jumbo._ Leorio is about to refuse, but reconsiders; there are the greyhound races tomorrow, after all… What if he could get some lucky numbers or suggestions?

_The cards are dealt and she draws up each one._

Maybe it is a bit of showmanship, but her face lighting up at each card captures Leorio’s attention.

“Interesting..” She says.

“What? What is it?”

“It appears as though someone special is right in front of you, and new horizons are opening up..” She smiles at him. “What you most want right now is love, and it is almost within your grasp. If you just put in a little effort,” She reaches out and touches Leorio’s hand. “...You might get it.” She pauses and gives him her best attempt at an alluring side-eye. “Also, it says here you are a great lover.”

 _Ok, now I feel weird,_ he thinks. He twists his Patek-Philippe watch around his wrist uncomfortably.

“You are afraid of things falling apart when seeking this new love as unforeseeable things may happen, which is understandable. _Unforeseeable things **will** happen. _Like how I called you here today, but if you have a little faith and things will turn out okay.”__

____

____

Her gaze on him is a little too penetrating for comfort. And she’s smiling again.

She flicks to the next card with another interesting design on it.

“You are from a very blessed family with close attachments. And if you are trying, a new little family member should be on its way soon! Oh how nice!”

Leorio rolls his eyes, thinking about Kurapika. “I doubt that.”

“Oh? You don’t like kids?”

“Lady, I mean that makes little sense, I don’t have a family, and I don’t think my boyfriend can.. _Conceive a child._ ” Wait, isn’t that kind of pathetic to say you don’t have a family?

Palm’s expression drops blankly. Damn. All the good ones are gay or taken or _both_. She draws up her fake smile again like purse strings, but digs her nails into her leg under the table uncomfortably. Leorio can hear the fake nails cracking off and hitting the floor and ignores it.

“Well.. These predictions aren’t water-tight..” She struggles. “Maybe it’s a new pet or an old college friend crashing at your place for awhile.. Maybe a mistress.. I’m sure you’ll know when it happens.” _Pant pant._

“Uhh.. I think I should get going.” Leorio stands up and takes his coat off the chair. 

Her eyes aggressively widen.

“Wait!” She boomed. “Let it not be said I don’t tell a fortune well. One last card.”

He looks back with a pained look.

She draws in a breath and moves on to the next card position, and taps it.

“This card states you struggle with compromise. Sometimes, it’s best to let go of the little things in order to see the bigger picture. If you don’t listen to any of the others listen to this one.”

“Right, thanks, anyway you just reminded me of something. I gotta get going!”

He bounds out of the store, doubting his judgement. “Why did I ever go in there..?” He whispers.

She leans her head out of the store. “ **AND DON’T GO TO THE RACES TOMORROW EITHER! YOU’LL LOSE!** ”

“AUGH!” He covers his ears.

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	4. THE ARCADENING PART 2

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####  10:35 AM - PIKA: FIRST SPIDER 

Kurapika buttons up his dress shirt and waves goodbye to the Spa attendants. That was just what the doctor ordered.

“Sir, don’t forget your bag.” 

“Oh!” Kurapika yawns and grabs the leather bag.

Once outside the Spa, the normal noisy mall greets him. 

But some unusual row of chatter pokes through it.

His TSA training comes back starting to bug him -- like hearing the crinkle of plastic in the other room and knowing it’s your pet eating something it really shouldn’t.

The spiders are walling in a small teary-eyed child, rummaging through his little bag. They look up when a figure catches their eye; a slim blonde with a beautiful face in a dress shirt and neat pants. He gives them a look.

The spiders look over Kurapika. “Babe alert.”

His thin eyebrows slant downward in severe reproach.

“What are you kids _doing_ over there?” 

“Haha lady what are you, a cop or something?

“Aww they sicked their mom on us!”

The child stammers behind teary eyes. “Let me go!”

This ruffles Kurapika’s feathers. _Yeah, basically, ya little twits._ Wait, no I can’t think that. None of my business, this is the mall, and they are just regular kids. Probably one of their little brothers. Think of the calm, relaxing spa treatment you just had. Let it go.. 

“Stoppp!” The child whines.

No, I can’t leave it alone.

“ **Hey, Break it up.** ” His voice deepens with authority and he starts heading toward them with confidence which spooks the teens.

One squints. “That aint no mom, _that’s a dude!!_ ”

“Let’s beat it!!!”

The horde of kids split and some bound up the escalator and look back.

When they clear out, Kurapika kneels down to the boy’s eye level. “Bunch of chickens. Are you okay?”

The little red-haired boy looks up with glassy eyes. He nods slightly.

“Are your folks around?” 

He shakes his head. “My dad’s supposed to be here but he’s late..”

“What’s your name, kid?” 

“Zushi..”

“Well Zushi, for the time being, I’ll wait with you so those boys don’t sneak up on you again. Let’s go get you something to fix you up while we wait for your dad.”

With the promise of ice cream Zushi brightened up quickly. 

They are soon eating a cone.

“You know, you remind me a bit of Gon when he was younger.”

“Is that your son? Are you a mommy or daddy?” The confused but happy child asks, lapping at a soft serve ice cream cone.

Kurapika folds a napkin quickly. “Hey now, you’re getting it all over your face!”

**Card Charge Counter  
$260  
**

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####  10:20 AM - ARCADE 2: The Shakening 

Gon and Killua are fast away at playing videogames, adrenaline pumping.

Out of the corner of his eye Gon spots an entourage of cool kids, even cooler in air than Killua, file in and start stalking around the machines. Maybe 8 or so. They’re all wearing jean jackets and baggy street and boardwalk clothes. They look around, and seem pleased at whatever it is they’re looking at. Wow, he thinks, they must be a few grades above us. Just look how even the cashier seems impressed.. or afraid.

But the other children seem to be clearing out.

“Hey Killua.” But Killua is laser-locked on the racing game. “Not right now!” He barks.

“Killuuuaaa…”

One of the group points over to the pair with the butt of a foam bat. The manager is gone.

“Killua…..”

A couple of them mozey over until they’re standing over Gon and Killua at their motorcycle racing game. 

Killua has finally burned out on the track, _GAME OVER!_ scrolling across the screen. 

“Dammit!!” He slams the table. Sensing the quiet, he looks behind him.. up.

“Sup..” 

A grizzled looking 16 year old boy with a foam sword looks down at him and nudges him in the back with it.

“How many tokens you guys got?”

“None of your-”

“30-mphh!” Killua mashes Gon’s face and turns back to them. “What do you guys want!”

“I’ll take it from here, Nob.” A mature-faced teen girl pulls a nerf pistol out from under her jacket and points it at Killua. “Hand it over. All your tokens.”  
Another one grabs Gon’s arm.

Looks like we’re in a pickle, Killua thinks. A few more show up and looks like they’ve got weapons under their jackets too. 

Killua’s mind goes into overdrive and plans to make a beeline and break for the door, but he looks over and realizes they’ve got a firm grip on Gon and then a few more teens appear by the exit.

“Sucks to be you guys today, eh??” One laughed. “No cabinet king around to help you.”

“Didn’t know we own the mall! I love fresh blood.” They close in like wet blankets, their proximity is suffocating. 

Killua’s face is burnished with humility and anger. He didn’t know what they were talking about but there was no choice but to comply. 

Killua and Gon sadly empty their pockets and hand the remaining tokens over, and the handful of Gon’s magic grow capsules which makes him groan something terrible.

After the transfer is done, they let go of the pair’s arms and start bagging up their winnings and horsing around in their little group bickering excitedly. 

Gon touches his arm which has red finger marks on it now. One of the teens turns back with a vicious grin and pops a nerf pellet at Gon and hits him in the cheek. “Warning shot! Haha that’s what it’ll be like next time if you guys don’t get with the program. Cyaaa~~!” And the noisy rabble stalks their way out of the Arcade. 

“Gimme back my Dinos!!!!” Gon pleads miserably.

The cashier lifts his head curiously above the counter.

Mad. Mad!!!! Killua is boiling. 

He sees the small welt the pellet left on Gon’s face.

He starts pacing furiously. How do we get back at them! How!! 

Gon doesn’t seem half as fazed by the insurrection as Killua is. 

“Killua, it’s alright...” The red mark is nearly gone anyway, but his voice sounds a bit sullen.

“No it’s not!”

The gang took his bottom dollar and Gon’s prize and the rest of the coins, everything.

Thankfully, the talkies are still behind the counter as per store policy regarding electronics, but that was the only silver lining he can think of.

Gon is making sucking motions and something is clacking against his teeth which catches Killua’s attention.

_“What are you eating?”_

Gon’s eyes sparkle and he mlem’s, presenting a token on his tongue.

“That’s.. Okay,” That’s f-ing disgusting he’s about to say but I suppose it counts as a small win.

“What are you going to do with one small coin anyway. DAMN! How are we going to get back at them..”

Gon holds up one index finger and then pries off his left sneaker, dumping a few more coins to the carpet with a couple of soft papples.

“My shorts didn’t have any pockets.”

“Well.. Okay.” Killua sits down on his haunches poking at them with his finger.

“Right. Well since they’re your coins, what are you going to do with them.”

“Let’s go rescue Hisoka.”

* * *

#### 10:40 AM - Something Else 

Genthru screeches under his breath at his Nokia phone.

The GameStop blocked my number!?!

His plan to bargain with them over the phone for a certain videogame went up in smoke.

I was going to play nice if they delivered the goods, but they’ve left me no choice but plan B.

Genthru sets himself out, gingerly planting stuffed animals in conspicuous places.

I guess if you gotta do anything, you gotta do it yourself. _Ahh damnit, I undercounted these._

He peers at the GameStop. But as it’s near a busy cross section, an officer is within sight.

He pulls his white hood over his hair.

He steeples his hands like a mad genius, but a mother and son bump into him making him lose focus.

Where are those idiots? They’re supposed to be making a diversion to keep the cops off my back.

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	5. PICKING SIDES

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fonts on the Title card and Character cards are _definitely_ The Sonic font
> 
> Please notice my hard work committing to the bit

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####  10:45 AM - SPIDERS - eat the dinos 

#####  _Some relatively empty part of the mall, some wing._

“Whoah, who would have thought those kids were packing!”

“That little guy kept calling them ‘Dynos’, and he seemed pretty attached to them.”

The Spiders laid out their loot on the floor between them - arcade coins mostly - But there was a scattering of the mysterious pills mixed in too.

“I’ve never seen these before.” Nobu remarks truthfully.

But a bunch of spiders, attempting to appear cooler and smarter than Nobu, add that they’d heard of it somewhere, maybe it was from a brother or another gang member or a kid from school and so-on. Pretty soon everyone is agreeing It’s A Thing That Exists while simultaneously feeling uncertain if they’ve ever really heard of it before.

Shalnark lifts one up to the light and squints at it with one eye open.

“Anyone want to give it a test?” He says jokingly. But, seeing an opportunity, Phinks snatches it out of his hands and pops it in his mouth, attempting to appear cooler and smarter than everyone else who attempted to appear cooler and smarter than Nobu for hearing about it. He washes it down with a swig from his juicebox, making an exaggerated “tsk, Ahhhhh” sound like a cola ad.

Uvo, impressed, immediately follows suit, and so does an incensed Nobu, before Shalnark shields his arm over the stash preventing any further would-be guinea pigs.

“Hey hey hey! Dudes, I don’t know if I’m going to have to be dragging you out of the mall after this.” 

The other members, especially the women, murmur how dumb they thought that was, which causes the tips of the volunteer’s ears to burn a bit with embarrassment.

The trio waits a few minutes, looking down at their legs awkwardly. Time passes. The group is a bit too curious yet to change gears.

“You feel anything yet, Phinks?”

“A little light-headed, maybe.”

“I got nothing.” Uvo flatly replies.

“I feel amazing, everything’s like _bright_ and stuff, you guys should try this!” Nobu says sweating, trying too hard. 

Shalnark looks them over skeptically. 

“Okay, well you guys just holler if you feel anything different. We’re going to carry on. We should probably report it to Chrollo when we meet back up.”

A familiar blonde head passes by.

“I’ll meet back up with you guys in a few.“ Uvogin runs off.

* * *

####  10:48 AM - RESCUING THE LION 

Hisoka is seated with his ass grounded and his arm unfortunately kinked up the claw machine hole at an odd angle. He looks all worn out. 

_The lion with the thorn in his paw._ Killua grimaces.

“You sure you want to do this?”

Gon looks determined. “Yep.”

Hisoka hears footsteps and looks over his shoulder.

“Oh look who’s back..” He murmurs.

Gon presents the coin in his fingers.

“If I release you, what can you do for us?”

Hisoka’s smile is a bit too broad for comfort. “I guess you’ll have to find out.”

He puts it into the coin slot and punches the play button. The claw machine whirrs to life playing a fruity song, and Hisoka gasps and finally retracts his arm through the trap rubbing it. There is a dark red ring on his arm.

Killua rolls his eyes but plays out the claw game while Gon is talking to Hisoka.

Gon looks at Hisoka with even more focus.

“What can you do for us?”

The pale man sits pathetically rubbing his arm where the claw machine bit him for a few moments, and casts a glance up.

“You played on some of the machines.. Right? Did you notice a certain group of initials topping most of the leaderboards?”

Gon and Killua looked at each other for a moment, and a surprised expression dawns on them.

“Hi-so-ka.”

Now that they think of it, a lot of the machines had HSK stealing the top slot by a wide margin.

“The Spiders may ramble around trying to own the arcade but they are peanuts to me. I was just in, uhm, a bit of a jam today. Claw machine’s not my specialty. Something like that.”

Darn right, looks like he was trying to steal from it, Killua thinks, after he bombs all three rounds the coin awarded. Is this guy really that good if he’s lowered himself to using dirty tricks like that?

“If you’re so good at the machines, can you earn us a bunch of tickets?” Gon pressed.

“Maybe.. You got any more coins? I’ll pitch in as many as you offer.”

Gon produces a handful of 5 coins.

“Ooh, you make my job tough.” Hisoka winced, but he is already grabbing the coins out of his hand.

He straightens up as the pair of youngsters start to lead away. He turns back and gave a knock-knock on the claw case. “Babe, I’ll be back in a bit.”

Two knocks back from within the machine somewhere.

The Cabinet King makes his way down the aisle, visually picking out his favorite cabinets like a billionaire touring his parking lot of gleaming classic cars _that really should be in a museum anyway christ give your money to a good cause or something that’s fun too right_ , and heads over there. The kids follow.

Hisoka positions himself in front of the machine, cracks his neck both left, then right, rolls his wrists so the veins glide over the violin strings of his tendons. “Feed the coin.” Gon and Killua do what he says and punch the glowing 1-play button. Soon it was spilling out.

On a single machine an SNK anomalously topped the leaderboard. “Oh? How did that get there.” Hisoka smiles evilly. “Time to wipe it off.” In less than ten minutes it was dropped to rung 2. “That one was just for fun, sorry. I’ll play on some of the more generous machines now.”

Gon and Killua watch the whole spectacle with amazement; Hisoka has the devil’s hands and works the machines over with the 5 piddly coins Gon gave him. It feels like a hack how many tickets spoil out of the cabinets.

Soon Killua and Gon are both hefting big pillowy stacks of unbroken ticket chains.

They promptly follow Gon to the prize counter. Killua can guess what’s up at this point. Gon trades it all in for two of some of the highest prizes on the wall: _nerf guns._

“Two of those, please!” Gon points at the nerfs, flapping a stack of tickets.

The clerk counts up the tickets. “Let’s see here, 5, 10, 25..”

“Sorry boys,” the clerk utters. “You almost had it. There’s on’y just enough for one.”

A young boy walks up to the counter. “Here… I’ve been saving these for awhile.. You’re going to fight the spiders, right? You can have it.” He hands over a mound of tickets to Gon.

“Wow.. are you sure?”

“This too.” An older teen girl hands them a crumpled lunch bag full of saved tickets. “I can’t think of a better thing to invest them in. Get ‘em good.”

A few others donate theirs too. They all look hopefully on Gon, Killua, and their cabinet King.

“Well, I’ve never seen anything like this. If yours is actually that good of a cause, I might as well play along. ‘Rough em up good, son.” The clerk picks the two nerfs off the rack and places them on the counter.

While Killua felt a small stab of regret at passing up a chance at owning _Quake III Arena_ , he somehow felt this would be better. They admire their new shiny prizes openly outside of the store, in typical overexcited youngster fashion.

Hisoka smiles thinly at their jubiliance. 

“I think I’ll be seeing you later for the action.”

Gon and Killua look at each other. I guess he just invited himself to our plan?

The pair wave clutching their prizes as he disappears into the back of a Claire’s.

* * *

####  10:52 AM - Double Pay-Back 

“There he is.. “ Kurapika is sitting at a cafe table with Zushi, his back turned.

“It’s payback.” Uvo whispers with a grin on his face.

He fishes out 4 or so half-eaten iced coffee and smoothie drinks out of a nearby rubbish bin and sneaks up behind Kurapika’s pristine, pressed, white dress shirt.

The lids come off, the cold ice cubes and slush rattles out of the plastic tubes and down all over Kurapika’s hair and shirt.

What follows is much like a National Geographic special of the spotted Cheetah launching itself after its zig-zagging prey. 

You can almost hear the gravelly mid-atlantic radio accent:

_As fast as the Cheetah is, it only catches its prey once in about every 10 tries._

Kurapika stumbles in his wet clothes blind rage and by that time the game is already halfway across the commercial serengeti. 

A few minutes later Kurapika is at the commons bathroom sink, lapping water onto his face and clothes but the multiple drink colors are just not coming out.

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	6. GUERILLA TACTICS

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####  10:55 AM - A Change of Clothes 

“I need a change of clothes.. Need a change of clothes.” His wet shirt and stains are starting to embarrass him, what with the stares. He hot foots into the nearest clothing store he can find.

Wasn’t long before he bumped into a little store called Hot Topic.

Kurapika stares somewhat dumbfounded at the sign, huffing. “Hot Topic? Is this one of those high end luxury stores?”

Kurapika wanders in, but it’s so dark it’s hard to get a good look at anything.

An attendant comes over. “Can I help you with anything?” But then she gets a good look at Kurapika’s face. He has a sort of intense shocked look, a ready-take-action pose, his hair is sticking up in different directions from the water, but he is so fine-featured that he has an ethereal angel-like quality that makes her knees weak. The and the pale stage lights hanging from the ceiling make him look like some dead angel’s beautiful ghost. Maybe he is someone important, like a movie star or model that just had his cover blown with some paparazzi. What great fun that would be, she dazzles.

“WHOAH. Your eyebrows are fantastic.” That’s the first thing she manages to say.

Kurapika smiles a little but averts his gaze embarrassingly. It only increases his fragile adonis mystique. “I need a change of clothes, can you find me something quick?”

“Sure.. You could say I’m a style artist.” She makes a giddy smile, her hand partially covering her mouth. She’s only about 16.

“Wait, I just want a simple change of clothes.”

Absently he notices while waiting, that silly song Leorio likes "I Know What I Like (In Your Wardrobe)" begins playing softly over the speakers.

* * *

Kurapika emerges from the changing room, feeling a bit awkward about himself. 

He’s wearing a black shirt with hot pink letters and decorative spatter across it. ‘Aint Nobody’s Bitch’ written across it in a fast freehand. He fiddles and smooths out the awkward gothic chains on his wrist and hand. Below are pinstripe lowers and black shiny heeled boots. He kicks up one heel behind him just so he can size up just how big that platform is.

The attendant flashes a bright toothy grin and gives a double thumbs up.

He feels silly. 

This looks pretty dumb, especially the shirt, but in truth it doesn’t look any different from the things Louis Vuitton comes up with. Like this $975 t-shirt currently available on LV at the time of this writing:

Fashion is wonderful and stupid. Gauging its true value is a fool’s errand.

The girl is flitting about the shelves. Before he can object, she loops a silver choker around Kurapika’s neck with little dangling skulls attached in increments. Oh boy.

“There! Chokers are really in bright now. Elegant, but dangerous!” She makes a “ROWR” tiger sound and bats the air with her hand playfully. “This really finishes off the look.”

“Are you sure this is fashionable right now?”

“This is THE HOTTEST THING.”

He looks behind him at a floor length mirror. “Is that _me?_ ” He whispers.

Her eyes light up, she’s clasping carefully hands close to her heart.

“YOU LOOK AMAZING.”

He saw his face in the mirror and starts getting goosebumps himself. It’s too bad they didn’t have suitcoats - what kind of luxury store is this, anyway?

Oh well.

“And here.” She winks, putting a pair of sunshades on him. “For the paparazzi.”

He doesn't quite get the joke, but he passes the card across the counter and purchases the shirt and accessories.

He leaves the store, now getting attention for very different and slightly gothic avante-garde reasons.

10 minutes later he loses his nerve, and dashes into Men’s Warehouse for a proper suitcoat to cover this atrocious shirt.

**Money counter  
$390  
**

Leo will forgive some of this won’t he?

* * *

####  11:20 AM - SCOUTING 

“You go that way, I’ll go this way.” Killua instructs.

They nod to each other.

Both boys are toting shiny new nerf guns - and not just little ones either. They’re strapped down with excess ribbons of (fake, brightly colored) ammo too. They had used the last of their tickets to buy a tin of facepaint, which they had promptly streaked and marked their faces in jungle camo stripes ( Gon ), and under eye reflector marks ( Killua ). Gon also snagged a cheap pair of pink binoculars with Barbie written in cursive across it.

“Look for the spiders, but keep out of sight. Use the foliage for cover.” Killua jerks his head to the potted palms and planters jutting out of the mall walkway every 50 feet or so. 

“Let me know if you find them. Phone in on the talkie when you’re out of earshot.”

“Right, Killua.”

Off they go.

* * *

**“Kshh, do you read me K-dog,”** Gon crackled through the talkie, still with the deep voice setting on. 

**“Clear as day Gojira, over.”**

Killua is too, it seems. 

The boys head down their respected wings and nothing is heard over the talkies for a solid 15 minutes. 

Killua had stuffed his nerf gun and ammo under his boardwalk hoodie; while lumpy he doesn’t look incredibly out of place. He scans the hall under the brim of his hat’s visor ( now actually facing forward ). He is able to blend in quite well. 

On the other hand, Gon has made a terrible mess of his face so he suddenly finds himself on the receiving end of a lot of strange stares, making his cheeks burn a bit with embarrassment. He starts to think maybe full-on camo painting his face was a bad idea. Furthermore, he arrived at the mall only wearing a tank top and a pair of loose green sport shorts with no pockets. (“Don’t you ever get cold”), Killua asked him earlier. No, not really. But this left little in the way of concealment. Basically he is toting a neon-colored nerf gun and ammo ribbon out in the open like a tiny rambo man. No way around it so might as well act the part. 

He finds himself more and more getting into character, zipping from foliage to foliage and hiding in ambush, holding up a pair of binoculars to see ahead (and trying to spit out the bits of foliage that got caught in his mouth). 

Things go on like this for a while with little to nothing to report, until Gon’s voice crackles over Killua’s talkie. 

**“K-dog, target sighted. Three of them.”**

**“Where are you?”**

**“First floor, near the Pretzel Bread shop.”**

**“Okay, stay there.”**

**“Turning off my receiver for now.”** _Click._

A small group of jacket wearing teens are making their way down the hall, chatting and none the wiser. 

“I think I’m starting to feel sick,” Phinks says. “Maybe I should sit down.” 

“Really? I feel amazing. I feel like a kick of energy, like I can take on anything!” Nobu says, sweating profusely. “They must be kicking in.” 

They brush right past the giant meridian of shrubby plants Gon is hiding in. He holds his breath. 

“I still don’t feel anything.” Uvo states. 

“Why don’t you guys eat something? Could help.” The girls Paku and Machi queue up for a pretzel but the guys, perhaps a bit squeamish in general but shy of being seen with something as questionably girly(?) as a giant fluffy pretzel, decline. 

Nob tries to change the subject. “It was really funny when we smashed those kids though, wasn’t it? Did you see the way that kid screamed about losing his drugs? Man, he must have been in a fix about them. Maybe they were prescription or something.” 

Anger wells up in Gon’s chest. But Killua would be mad if he did anything now; we are just gathering information he reminds himself. 

“I don’t know about the pills or whatever but the fire in that other kid when he knew we broke his spirit was just intense.” Uvogin remarked. “Sort of like when a possum hisses at you but it just looks dumb doing it. Then you poke it with a fat stick and it switches to playing dead.” The others sort of stare confused, like nobody understands this experience - that is something only Uvogin would do. But they laugh at the enemy’s expense anyway. 

That little #@%#$%. Making fun of Killua crosses the line. Gon props up his nerf and aims at Nob, he fires but the nerf misses him by a hair and manages to hit Machi in the back while she is standing in line. 

Machi whips around with murder in her eyes, her fried pink hair flying everywhere. Without a word she hoofs it over to Phinks who appears a little out of it and rams his shoulder. He nearly loses his balance off the bench. 

“What!!! What did I do!?!” He looks up in incredulous surprise. 

“I know you shot me in the back while I was ordering. That’s why you were all like “euhhh I don’t feel good, I’m just gonna sit back here while you girls go get a pretzel.’” She mimics in an exaggerated mocking tone. 

“I didn’t do NOTHING!” Phinks looks like he’s almost going to cry with rage. 

“Yeah, it came from somewhere over there.” The other boys give lukewarm backup, pointing over somewhere in the general vicinity of Gon, but the girls don’t believe them. 

“You guys always do stick up for each other anyway.” 

“And what’s that in your hand.” Paku sniffs. Unfortunately, Phinks still had his nerf resting in his palm. 

Realizing how damning this seems, he claws through his straw-blonde hair madly. 

“AUGHHHH!!!” 

Pakunoda just looks down on him like he’s a mile under her boot. 

“Come on Machi. We can’t let them out of our sight.” 

“Yes, let’s escort them from behind. Boys, we’re going back to rejoin the others at the 2nd floor rest area. Walk in front.” 

“Well ain’t that just a #%$#% of #$@&$!” Uvogin whispers. But the boys begrudgingly fall into line, if for the sake of “harmony” or whatever which they are so hardly believing in right now. 

When they are out of earshot, Gon flicks his talkie back on and phones. 

**“Gojira, reporting in.”** Gon squeezes himself out of the itchy shrub thicket and brushes the mulch off his thighs. 

**“Oh, thank god. That was such a long pause, I thought maybe something happened.”**

**“Well I may have shot at one of them..”**

**“You WHAT!?!”** The anger crackles over the phone. 

**“It’s okay, they don’t know it was me. Actually, they started fighting each other instead.”**

**“Gon, I told you to not take chances.”**

**“They are headed for the second floor near the elevator. All of the spiders should be there.”**

**“Wow. Well. Okay, let’s regroup with a plan.”**

* * *

####  11:30 AM - SECURITY 

“It’s those phantom troupe kids, I’m sure of it!” 

“Come on.. They’re just a bunch of kids playing with foam. Sure they popped a few nerfs that hit somebody or loitered, but we can’t actually cart them off unless they actually DID something.”

“Yeah you guys are being paranoid. ‘The Spiders’ haven’t been so bad since the delinquents were chased off or banned from here.”

 _“Well, either that or they’re moving on to bigger fish._ Look - turn your talkie to channel 1A. There’s something heavy going down.”  
Sure enough, they switched their talkies to the channel.

**“...Kshh… Project acquire ‘Dyno’. Meet me at the usual meeting place in 5 minutes.”**

**“Roger that.”**

“What is that..”

“They’re using a voice changer to conceal their actual voices, smart. Dynos.. I’ve never heard of that term before. Is that a drug?”

A newbie officer looks it up in a police field manual. Flip, flip, flip.

“There’s nothing in here by that name.”

The lead officer considers it, maybe there is something more going on under their nose.

“It must be something new on the street. Alright, security level orange, start spreading out in the mall, look for suspicious characters or deals taking place. Let me know if you see anything. Keep an eye on that channel!”

* * *

####  11:35 AM - RECORD STORE 

Leorio enters the record store and breathes in deeply, bracing for certain impact ----

No Phil Collins playing. 

_Exhale._

It’s a somewhat cramped affair with music nerds quietly moving around displays of CDs and boxes of larger formats. Some people have on headsets listening to recent CD samplers which are showcased on an overhead CRT with accompanying music videos.

He begins to pick through a tray of CDs.

 _I know Kurapika’s been wanting on that one album, Calling All Stations._ Nah, I know he likes Phil Collins but that one’s almost an un-gift.

Despite initially going to the Record store for himself, Leorio progressively finds himself flicking through the CD’s looking for something for Kurapika too. 

He briefly considers Phil Collins solo CDs then, like _Dance Into The Light_ but he is having a hard time putting it into the disc sampler. It was Phil, after all. He doesn’t want to subject himself to it atleast.

How about that Peter Gabriel’s solo album, _“Us”?_

Mmmm, yeah! That sounds poetic, or something. This album is really romantic, too. He goes over to the audio sampler and checks to see if it’s there to hear some of the songs.

When he looks it up, the available song on the machine to listen to is “Steam”. The music video starts playing on the CRT and oh god what a fever dream. This absolute fever dream of a Music Video. Technology Has Come So Far. The CG is **Amazing.**  
WARNING: not safe for work or life and I planned this to be the last section of the chapter so you can catch a breath.

Wow. What a man. _What an alien._

Phil’s best retort to this is the weird jig on that music video “We Can’t Dance,” and we both know neither of them can dance but atleast Pete puts his whole white body into it.

“Fan of Peter Gabriel eh?” A voice from behind comments, startling him.

Leorio bobs a headphone off his ear and looks around behind him. It’s some old shaggy-haired guy in a tattered tie-dye shirt and cargo pants, all lazily mantled in a sad looking leather patch jacket. Well, par for the course, it’s a music store.

“...Yeah, I’ve been following him as long as I can remember.”

The juxtaposition of their attention to dress style is comically apparent, which the man notices.

“Well… You look like an old-fashioned Mod if I ever saw one.” 

Leorio chuckled. He doesn’t think he needs to be a Mod to appreciate a good italian suit, but he plays along. “Then I take it you’re a Rocker?” 

“Well if the motorcycle means anything. But yeah. Which of his albums is your favorite, man?”

“I like the early Peter Genesis years myself.”

“Oh, cool. Which ones?”

Leorio paused and thought a bit. “It’s hard to choose.” 

He was familiar with Peter’s hits as a youngster in the 80’s but digging through the 70s Genesis discography and concert footage was a Mindfuck with a capital M as seeing Peter in dressy costumes and makeup was an early awakening moment and an indicator of his later sexual preferences. 

  
_Exhibit A, a raw unstoppable sexual force_

But, to keep private matters private, he summarizes it as “Liking a good stage show” and vagues around the idea that all the creative stage clothes were innovative and “Music should take some thought you know” and yada yada, but privately thinking to himself there is just something so horribly alluring about a man with attitude in costume and makeup. Oof.

“Ahhh, yes, _the stage costumes,_ ” the stranger said with squinting eyes, smiling as though he knew what Leorio meant. “I preferred The Lamb myself. A bit more of a _tough-guy story _about a gangster.” Ah, the album where Peter gyrated around stage in jeans and a leather jacket, singing about turning into a nut monster while wearing the nut monster costume(don’t look it up!), getting his manhood stolen by a crow, sporting the glorious line “It is chicken, it is eggs, it is in between your legs”. Yes that one. Or atleast that is how he remembered it. Leorio liked it too.__

____  
_Exhibit B, an immovable tambourine-spanking leather twunk_

__“Hey, you’re not bad.” Leorio remarked. “Not many people have heard of those.”_ _

__“Thanks. Well, a well-traveled hunter of the classics must know these things, Heh heh. So, just picking up solo albums for old time’s sake?”_ _

__“No, I’m trying to think of what to give my - friend, for our anniversary.”_ _

__“Anniversary of being friends?”_ _

__

__“...Yeah.”_ _

__“Must be some friend. Or sounds complicated. What’s that you got?”_ _

__“Gabriel’s _US_ … Don’t read into it. You know, we sometimes get into arguments over who is the better band lead, Peter Gabriel or Phil Collins. I don’t know how he can stand Phil, his songs are so _sentimental and plain._ Gabriel’s a real firecracker though - you never know what he’s going to say or wear next.”_ _

__“So, you my dude, are looking for friend anniversary gifts, and got a problem with plain sentimentality?”_ _

__“...” Leorio drifts into a thousand yard stare. “Well, do you think it’s a good gift?”_ _

__The man claps him on the shoulder with a rough hand covered in guitar calluses._ _

__“Don’t worry. The power of _“Us”_ is strong, brother.”_ _

__He walks away._ _

__“I wish you luck on your ‘friend anniversary’! I gotta hit the hardware store or something man. Nice talking to you!”_ _

__The scruffy man whistles as he wanders out of the store, it looks out of place more like he is sauntering back into the depths of a jungle thicket rather than a grey river of humans._ _

__What an unusual man._ _

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	7. EPIC MALL BATTLE ARENA COOL BEANS

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####  11:45 AM - SPIDER AMBUSH 

The boys are staged in different spots at the mall. Killua is touring one of the main hotspots - The big water fountain pool next to the glass elevator.

**“Kshh.”**

**“You don’t have to say ‘Kshh’ everytime. In position?”**

**“Oh. Yeah. Are we ready?”**

**“Yes. Project ‘Acquire Dyno’ activated.”**

**“Great!”**

**“I’ll be in the west wing. I’ve got the fastest legs. When I connect with them I’ll head them off and bring them your way. You lie in wait, wait until you see the whites of their eyes, then open fire.”**

**“Okay.”**

**“They should scatter, and you should run. The idea is to break up their formation and single out who’s got the Dynos and coin. Listen for jingling.”**

**“And if you can make out who their leader is, aim for that guy especially.”**

**“We have to act fast, it’s only a matter of minutes before security will have a handle on the situation. If you see a security guy, just put the plan on pause and sink back into the crowd.”**

**“Got it.”**

Killua puts his talkie away.

He’s sitting on a bench in front of some foliage, looking discrete.

“Hisoka… You cover for Gon. If Gon’s doing good, just.. go nuts.”

“Can do.” Hisoka leans over the back of the bench, Killua notices his earlobes are red and pierced.

“Did you… nevermind.” Killua shakes his head. He’s trusting this wildcard. 

Hisoka smiles.“ Alright, how will we do this?”

“Well, do you know anything about their group?”

Hisoka then leers like a wiley mongoose.“Yes. Their leader is the one with the black hair. He goes by the name of Chrollo.”

* * *

Killua looks at his Bart Simpson watch. “I think they are due any moment now.”

From his hiding spot, Killua watches the group of spiders slowly descend the glass elevator down to the ground floor. He lies in wait. Perfect, they all came together.

 _Ding._ The elevator doors slide open.

In a split second Killua’s eyes dart among the people in the stall - looking for a boy with black hair. His eyes rest on Nob and Feitan.

Like lightning, Killua bursts past the elevator and pegs them haphazardly with a few rounds. The spiders had almost no time to react!

“Hey!!!!” 

The group lurches out of the elevator shaft confused, nerfs fumbling at the ready and twisting in all manner of directions.

Killua is already out of sight, circling around the elevator before bursting past them a second time with more errant crowd shot and giving them a clear view of where to tail him.

“That kid hit me!! HEY! Wait up!” Uvo barks.

Nob, appearing a bit overconfident and sweaty, convinces himself he is a one man army and just boiling with energy. “Oh that little twerp, from the arcade! He thinks he can play our game!?” He is the first to chase after blindly, while Phinks looks uneasy but picks up the rear cautiously.

Killua looks behind him; the whole pile is trailing him. All that track training is going to pay off, he thinks to himself.

He dashes up an ascending escalator four steps at a time, and when they believe they’ve got him, he’s all the way across the floor bridge on the other side of the hall, sliding down a manual set of stair’s bannister on his butt(not for asses!!) and knocks a floor sign down in the way. 

“Slow DOWN Nob!!” Machi yells. But he is already off again.

The crowd makes it to the top of the steps, only to see that Killua is down on the first floor again and they change direction - they start to break up formation and chase him whatever way they see fit. Good, Killua thinks. The group has a rag-tag collection of long range nerf weapons as well as foam weapons; those who are short range like Nob are figuring it a different way.

One of the leaders has to be one of the ones he shot at, Nob or Feitan, Killua thinks.  
Can’t be that one, though, Killua thinks. The taller one with the sword is coming closer fast and has no composure whatsoever.

“Bang Bang!” Gon leaps out from under the stairwell and shoots Nob on the forehead, which surprises him to such a degree that he loses his balance and trips over the sign Killua had set up. 

Watching how they scatter… There is no cohesion to it. And no one is looking to a specific person for direction. Killua is breathing heavily under the entrance canopy of a store, but Phinks and Uvo suddenly catch sight of him, popping a stream of nerf from what looks like neon versions of a shotgun and machine gun, so he picks up his nerf again and dashes off. _No sign of who could be holding the loot, anyway._

Machi remains standing at the top of the escalator steps, eagle-eying the romping around on the ground floor below. “Bunch of animals..” She draws her suction-cup bow and points it at Killua. A red arrow whizzes past Killua’s face and smacks on the faux granite wall next to him with a loud ** _SMAP!_**

Killua looks horrified and looks to where it came from to see Machi draw another one. CRAP!  
But he sees she’s wearing a fluorescent reflective mini-backpack. That’s it, he thinks. Forget crushing the leader for now. If anything, she’s got to be the one toting the loot.

Killua gains himself some distance and turns backwards to shoot some nerf pellets at Shizuku and Uvo, he takes a break to sign to Hisoka and Gon what to do.

Hisoka is walking quietly around on the 2nd floor and has come to the same conclusion Killua has. Machi is the target.

Hisoka joins the fray by pelting some of the spiders below with quarter-dispenser rubber bouncy balls. He nails Uvo and Shizuku. 

Their attention is derailed yet again, where now the play has become a haphazard group tag.

Killua comes to the sudden, exciting realization that he is basically playing Quake, which wraps him up in awe for a moment. Better than the real thing.

Out of rubber balls, Hisoka takes himself down to the floor and intimidates Shalnark (who immediately surrenders), grabbing his arm and bagging his Blaster. Shalnark flees the floor, exiting the romp.

 _I’ve not played years of Duck Hunt for nothing,_ he thinks. Hisoka cocks his gun and pelts. He is a dead shot and pops Uvo, Paku, and Nobu in the back in quick succession, surprising them.

The game continues on like a terrible 60’s Scooby-Doo door skit except with a few more escalators and no doors. Everyone’s getting hit with flying Nerfs pellets, including some shocked bystanders. 

Uvo trips over a bench injuring his knee, while Shizuku wails on Gon with a foam bat but scratches her arm on a nearby display, so those two decide to sit the rest of it out. 

During the fight, Killua and Gon run past Machi, causing her to turn around quickly and they hear the unmistakable jingle of coins in her mini-backpack. 

“She’s definitely got the coins!” Killua yells. Machi points and fires a red arrow that bullseye’s on Killua’s forehead. **_SMAP._**

_“Stay away!”_

It dazes Killua for the moment, Gon helps him up and surges ahead to chase her on the field.

Meanwhile tucked away near the shade of a store entrance, Phinks is taking it easy leaning against a pillar, thinking more about how his stomach feels - do I feel sick yet? Hmm.. He dawdles in a hypochondriac stall when he realizes everyone seems to be gone and the trio is giving Machi a run for her money. Looks like I’m up. He wills himself out of intense worry and jogs in place to join her and act as a buffer. She pushes him angrily.

“HEY! I’m trying to help you!!”

“You’re probably just going to shoot me in the back!”

“WHAT! Oh please, give me a break.” He shoots at Gon and misses. “If I wanted to do that I’d have done it a long time ago.”

“Like an hour ago?” She fires at Killua.

“God, woman.”

She changes the subject. “You got any extra pockets on you?”  
They start running together.

He feels around. “Just the ones in my jacket.”

She slings her pack onto her arm. “I’m getting tired, I need somewhere to hide the coins or something, I can’t keep this up.” 

They start to run together and look around for a small hiding spot. Near the fountain? No, too obvious. The planters? No, anyone can just casually look down into them and see a suspicious brightly-colored bag.

The remaining spiders Feitan, Nobu, and Paku are keeping the enemies busy. The pair must move quickly.

Then they spot it: The perfect hiding place for something as bright and fluorescent as Machi’s mini-backpack.

In the distance they see the mini mall train chug along on its route.

* * *

####  11:46 AM - FOLLOWUP SECURITY CALL ( BEFORE HELL BROKE LOOSE ) 

“Hey guys, something crazy just happened.”

“Yeeeees, we’re busy with it currently.” 

“No, I mean remember that fight we broke up with the teenagers a few weeks ago?”

“In front of the Arcade? Yeah that was ugly. Now we just have Chrollo’s group to deal with for the most part. I almost feel bad for our home base team, _but then I come into work._ ”

“Well we banned some of the other kids from the mall involved in the scuffle for property damage. One of them has been calling the Gamestop nonstop today and they had to block his number, so he just sent in some sort of riddle-threat, cheeky guy..”

“Jeez, what do they want?”

“Uhh.. Quake III Arena, apparently. They’re angry at the Gamestop for banning them several months ago and now suddenly they’ve been badgering for a copy of the game. That was the one that came in some time ago kicking up a fuss and damaging the merchandise before we carted him out.”

“Are you serious? Was it that weird adult guy? Hahaha.”

“Yeah that’s the guy! It was pretty wild, Rob was on shift and told us all about it. Then like the next day the guy tried to harass the Arcade for one of their prize copies, so they blocked right quick too. We’ve had those two stores under close watch for awhile now due to the high rate of hoodlum incidents.”

“Okay okay, but you gotta let me know. What’s the riddle say?”

“Ehh.. Okay here we go:”

_“Look into the west  
What lays in all directions  
Though they walk on four legs  
Beating in their breast  
Whispers a song of destruction_

_How dare you  
Ban me from the mall  
You assholes”_

“...Nice. Did he come up with that all on his own? HAHA!”

“Is he still on the line?”

“Oh - he’s on with the police now?”

“Yes.”

“Patch him through to me.”

“Sure thing.”

===

A mysterious, high-pitch modulated voice crackles over the phone.

“Hello Officer. I see you’ve taken an interest in my most dangerous game.”

“Listen, dude, nobody gives a damn.” 

The officer hangs up.

“Was that okay to do?” One of the newbies questions.

“Yeah, that guy’s a melt. He can't pour water out of a boot with instructions on the heel. This current outbreak is more pressing, just seek to stabilize the scene and wait for developments.”

* * *

####  12:00 PM - THE SPLIT 

“What is this madhouse!!” 

The mall security’s airwaves are thick with chatter - news of the mall-wide nerf battle finally reaches them.

Our aging mall security team answer the calls and hoof it down to the warzone with the grace and aerodynamics of pregnant cattle. 

They have considerable trouble flagging down any of the faster teens (who, let’s be honest, aren’t about to stop for an officer either ), but there did seem one youngster who was quite easy to approach. 

Gon chases a few of the older teens but is a little slower on the leg so he takes a shortcut through the fountain display and trips (quite enjoying it though), fumbles out but is having a time gaining traction in wet shoes. He makes a face at them and wrenches the soppers off his heels without a care and looks poised to bolt barefoot but an officer seizes the moment.

“Hey! Little boy, ” he holds out a hand gently, “Why don’t you put down the weapon and come with me?”

Gon looked up and saw what to him seemed a friendly officer. “Oh, sure.” He immediately drops his gun to his side and walks over.

The officer looks pleased.

Killua mouths “GON DON’T!! GET OUT OF THERE” but it is too late. Killua bounds up the escalator to save his own skin from a second officer. “I need to find somebody to help.”

 **Watches incapacitated: 2.5/4**  
Leo’s watch - incorrect time  
Pika’s watch - missing  
Gon’s watch - waterlogged  
Killua’s watch - intact

* * *

MEANWHILE, GON WITH THE OFFICER

“Son, you have any parents I can call?” The police officer kneels down to Gon’s level, but has the boy’s wrist firmly gripped.

“Well, err, yes..”

“What are your parents’ names?”

Gon pouts, looking away. “I only have my dad, he’s Ging Freecs..”

“You call your father by his first name?”

“Well he didn’t raise me!” Gon spurts, fixing his eyes further away.

Gotta a couple a disrespectful kids here, he thinks.

“Okay, I’m calling him up on the mall intercom.”

“No!!” Gon jumps up and down grabbing pathetically for the officer’s talkie, but the officer bats his hands away and phones it in. Soon an announcement is heard mall-wide.

**“WOULD A GING FREECS REPORT TO THE SECURITY OFFICE NEAR THE SOUTH ENTRANCE AT ONCE. WE HAVE YOUR SON.”**

At that very moment at Ace Hardware, the audio marquee echoes over the store speakers and a suddenly visibly (audibly) disturbed Ging is purchasing some T-brackets.

The cashier frowns and doubletakes a look at the credit card that was just handed him.

“Freecs.. That’s _you_ correct?”

“Ehh, there’s a lot of Freecs around these parts...”

He hastily stuffs his purchase in his jacket and wanders out the store.

The cashier quietly dials security.

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	8. THE GREAT TRAIN ESCAPE

###### 

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####  12:10 AM - COFFEE DING DING DING *ARM COMES DOWN* 

Shalnark is out of breath on the fourth floor looking for where Chrollo usually is, but he can’t find him.

Chrollo is oblivious to the current sequence of events, but the sudden emptying of officers is a hint that something may be up, Genthru must have got his comeuppance from sneaking around the GameStop. Which also means to Chrollo that “there is nobody to witness me swipe something.” And it was time to restore his lunch funds for the week inbetween Machi’s generous donations of stale Pop Tarts. So he waltzes down rich row looking for unattended bags.

Meanwhile, Kurapika has stopped into a Coffee joint nearby. He already placed his order and is waiting near the counter. The barista calls out for a “ **Tropica** ” several times in the space of a few minutes until Kurapika realizes with disgust that it is him.

**Money deficit**  
**$395**

He tries to take a sip but the coffee is too hot. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees some activity near the cafe table where he left his bag. Erm.. 

Did that kid just take his entire bag? …

**WHAT!**

**Not my new bag!!!**

Chrollo is bounding out of the store already, the door shutting with a heavy **clunk** and _ding~._

Kurapika leaves Tropica at the counter and is booking it down the hall after the boy in his dressy leather shoes. Clop clop clop. It has a sinister edge to it when that’s coming after you. It vaguely frightens Chrollo and he picks up the pace, putting more effort in taking hairpin turns and running down stairs. But unlike the mall cops, Kurapika’s got a fit body and a fiery determination when his buttons are pressed.

Chrollo flits out onto the ground floor, which looks a little more chaotic than usual. 

“Whoah wait a minute, _what the crap is going on here._ ” 

The train breaks onto the scene.

####  12:15 PM - TRAIN SCENE 

“Stop touching me.”

“You’re the one touching me!”

Machi and Phinks jerk their knees away as far as they can but the wood bench is pretty tight.

“Quiet! You’re drawing too much attention.”

Several adults holding their children look behind them curiously at the only two teenagers riding the train. The pair look squeamish, still sweaty from running.

“Let’s just try to lay low, act natural.”

“That’s what I’m doing!”

_Thunk, Thunk._  
What sounds like footsteps on the roof of their car.

Machi and Phinks look at each other. Machi clutches her bag.

“That’s not natural.”

“..I’ll go check.”

Phinks slowly leans out of the window and looks up. He sees the hem of Kurapika’s black pinstriped pants, and then the rest of him balancing carefully on the roof of the train. Chrollo is on the car ahead of them.

_“Shit shit shit!”_ He whispers. 

Machi looks alarmed. “What!!”

“They sent some scary FBI guy after Chrollo.”

“What do we do!?”

“Just… Pretend nothing’s happening. We’re not suspicious or anything.”

“Right.” The pair flatten themselves into the car seat bench, ignoring whether their knees are touching.

===

Chrollo stares confused at the small, colorfully-painted victorian style mall train cutting his path off in twain. He suddenly feels like that antsy car in a police chase where the railroad lights start flashing and blaring _ding ding ding_ as the arms come down. It’s so slow and in the way. But looking back at the angry person behind him, he has to move forward _somehow._

He repositions Kurapika’s bag and hikes his leg up onto the slowly moving ledge of the car window, bouncing along following the train with his other foot on tippy toes. Got it, he grapples up the side. A child from somewhere inside the train runs to the side of the car and screams “COOOOL!!!” Chrollo tries to ignore the distractions and pulls himself up onto the roof. _Thunk._

He plans to slide his keister over the roof and drop down into a run towards the opposing wing blocked by the train - when he spots a mob of officers running into the commotion from down that very aisle. That’s a no-go…. He hangs in decision limbo on its peak.

Unperturbed, Kurapika lights onto the mall train a few train cars behind Chrollo with a _thunk._ He finds his balance and glares at the distracted brat, taking one hasty step forward.

Chrollo looks back fearfully.

The stiff mall air conditioning dutifully ruffles Kurapika’s hair making him look picturesque, deadly, and a bit movie-poster-ish. It can shake a man’s confidence, the moment when you realize you’re on the wrong end of the film.

“Hand my bag back!!” He yells through gritted teeth.The Hot Topic chains on his clawed hands rattle menacingly.

There’s no way Chrollo’s heading back in that direction. He could almost see the man’s eyes glint red with rage. Chrollo instead nopes and heads forward in the fronterly direction and leaps onto the next train car.

Kurapika steadily follows on.

####  TOPSIDE 

Killua burst onto the scene and whirled around. “Where did the pink girl and blonde guy go?” There were a lot of faces, but none that stuck out so much as those two, they should be easy to find. A colorful mall train lazily chugs in the center of the aisle.

“Hey! Catch that boy!” Officers lumbering behind Killua were catching up.

“Uh oh, gotta go keed.” Killua dashes into the large open hall space and jogs alongside the train. Suddenly he hears a commotion and a child scream “COOOOL!!” and he looks up. A jean-jacketed, black-haired boy leapt on top of the train and looks over Killua’s head at the oncoming officers trailing him. Apparently spooked, he changes course and starts tight-rope walking further up the train cars. 

This is closely followed by - who is that - holy cow - That’s _Kurapika!!_ Killua can’t believe his eyes. When did he get so much work done?

Killua drops back a few cars to Kurapika’s position maintaining a brisk walk. 

“Hey! What are you doing here?”

“Catching that thieving brat! Can’t talk right now!” Kurapika moves on ahead without further explanation.

“HEY!! About Gon -- ..” his voice tapers off uselessly, unheard. 

Killua does not understand the context one bit, but as he’s about to head on something neon catches his attention in the train window at his shoulder level.

Machi and Phinks are doing their very best to pancake themselves into the car bench and look away.

“Ahhh! So that’s where you two were hiding.”

“Please! Leave us alone! We don’t have it anymore.”

“Lying. I bet you’re sitting on it.”

They shuffle uncomfortably. “I swear, we don’t have it.”

Killua points his nerf into the car, which causes the pair to raise their own weapons. They exchange a volley of foam darts and arrows, which does little but annoy either of them.

===

“And now, if you look left, you’ll see a T.J. Max.” The plump elderly man says over the train intercom. 

Hisoka boards the conductor’s car.

“Sorry, I’m taking over.”

“Hey! If you want to ride, you have to board like everyone els - Hey! Stop!”

Hisoka pulls the man by the collar and pushes the man off the side of the vehicle. He tucks and rolls as if this were an intense action movie, but again, as it is only going about 3 mph, he lands slowly and exaggeratedly into a heap onto the glassy mall tile. RIP.

Hisoka sits down in the driver's seat and grabs the wheel, looks around for the pedals and pushes down the gas.

“Grab on Killua! We can’t let the cops catch up yet!” He shouts behind him.

“What is the top speed on this thing anyway?” Hisoka bemuses to himself. The dial seems to stop at 20 mph. Oh well, punch it.

The speedometer dial starts to climb slowly. Now 6mph.

Killua doesn’t know what’s happening but the train gives a shuddering lurch and has begun to pick up pace. He props his foot up on the side of the car and hangs onto the ledge of the window sill with his free hand. Machi and Phinks keep shooting at him.

Up above, Kurapika and Chrollo can sense the disturbance too; it’s becoming harder to balance but they are still making their way up the train.

Muffles of surprise and excited children’s squeals rise up from the cars.

An untrustworthy silky voice crackles over the intercom. “This is your conductor here. You may want to exit the attraction while you still can. Over.”

Families in some of the cars open the little gate and carefully leap off the train en masse. Bystanders watch the train putter on bewilderedly.

The needle rises to 8mph. Mall shoppers are beginning to become startled and shuffle out of the way in mild surprise. Hisoka wipes sweat off his brow and looks accusingly at the dial. “How come this thing isn’t going any faster!”

“You have to change gears.” Illumi hopped onto the caboose. “Here, let me give it a shot. I used to drive my dad’s tractor.”

“Finally, the master manipulator is here. Looks like you found your way out of the claw machine.”

“Yes, and I did much more than that,” he says, holding a stuffed animal, “but now’s not the time. Up, up.”

They switch places and Illumi sits down. He takes a knobbed driver’s side lever and cranks it up. The train makes a fake engine sound and picks up speed. 9, 10, 12mph.

Hisoka leans out the window. The mall officers, once tailing the train, start to fall behind and wheeze between their knees like an airplane demonstration.

“Ohh, nice. They’re giving up. It’s no fun playing with them anyways.”

On the side of the train, Killua is having a hard time hanging onto the train and bearing the assault; he crawls in through the window of the car. Machi and Phinks freak out. 

“Where is it!”

The bag isn't visible anywhere in the car.

“Jeez. Don’t have a cow, man.”

Machi laughs. Killua grows frustrated.

“We hid it, dumb-dumb. You’ll never find it.”

“Well Phinks, I think we wasted enough time. How about you?”

“Sure do, I guess we’ll catch you later. Let’s _vamoose this caboose._ ”

Machi rolls her eyes and the both perch in the window and jump out of the moving car. A muffled “ow” is heard in the distance.

There was the bag, under Machi's butt the entire time.

Killua eagerly picks it up from the bench and opens it. There’s just a ton of juice boxes, warm fruit snacks (ew), cookie bars, crushed pop-tarts, and other food items. He digs and digs and becomes enraged. There’s no loot! Tch, he zips it up and throws it on his back and prepares to leap out the window, but by this time the floor tiles are moving by at a blistering 16mph. Killua is puzzled, _what is Hisoka doing up there?_ He climbs out the opposite sill and hoists himself up onto the roof.

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	9. THE GREAT TRAIN ESCAPE PART 2

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####  12:18 PM - MULTITRACK DRIFTING 

Kurapika has cornered Chrollo on the first car.

“Nowhere to run..” Kurapika breathes heavily. He takes a swipe at grabbing the kid’s jacket collar but Chrollo weaves and just barely dodges. He looks around desperately. 

In the distance, faint sirens can be heard.

_Wee-ooh Wee-ooh Wee-ooh._

Cops and segways are bringing up the rear.

“Oh no.”

In the caboose, Hisoka and Illumi hear the new commotion and look at each other. Hisoka taps the dial frustratingly. “Still only 16mph.”

“We need to lose more weight.” Illumi says in a dead stare and turns around and starts prying at the hitch holding the rest of the passenger cars.

Kurapika takes another swipe at Chrollo and he bends over backwards flailing his arms, just barely losing his balance. Crap!

Just coming up ahead, Chrollo spots a land bridge spanning overhead for the second floor. 

_Comon.. Just a little more…_

He times it carefully while dodging Kurapika’s frequent grabs at his bag strap.

Then at the right moment, quickly, he turns around and jumps up, just barely catching the spokes of the railing, leaving his feet dangling. He quickly monkeys himself up the railing. The land bridge passes overhead quickly, and Kurapika looks behind him pissed. 

Eyes darting about, a nearby pair of up-escalators catches his eye - Kurapika holds out his hand and catches the dynamic railing with his wrist. 

“Kurapika wait -- “ was about all Killua could say.

Kurapika slowly lifts up - up - up off the train in a slow ascent heavenward like a little angry goth angel, the railing dumping him into a heap onto his stomach. He scrambles to his feet and continues in the direction Chrollo had headed in.

“Tell Leorio I might be a little late for lunch!” Kurapika shouted over his shoulder, the little skulls dancing on his necklace, and took off in the direction Chrollo had headed in.

Killua shrugged exasperatedly and slowly made his way forward like an ill-prepared news reporter in a storm. 

“Hisoka! Hi-soooo-kaaaa!” Killua shouts. But Hisoka can’t hear him over the din of the engine and cops barking orders to cease and desist.

People are clustering against the walls to watch the spectacle.

Illumi turns around and spots the boy heading up the train. “So, is my little brother working _for_ or _against_ you?” He asks.

“He’s a friend. Why?”

“He’s gaining on the train. Is it still okay if I break the hitch?”

“Yeah, he’ll understand. We’ve got a mission of our own.” 

“Okay, here goes...” Illumi releases the hitch and the passenger cars begin to drift behind.

_Bye, Killua._ Hisoka smiles and waves at the little kid in the backwards turn’t hat. 

Killua notices the distance growing between him and the caboose, and Hisoka smiles and waves with just the digits of his hand childishly. _Those bastards!_

The trail of passenger cars begin to swerve lazily under the lack of guidance and look prepared to mow through a couple of vendor stalls for sunglasses and other peripherals. 

This is bad. Killua looks around for any kind of a soft landing.

He spies a stand of several tall potted palms coming up on the meridian. “That’s it.”

He readies himself and leaps like tarzan, grabbing the trunk of a palm. It’s scratchy but he links his hands together and desperately holds on, in the process severing the strap on his watch. The giant potted plant sways and begins to tip back and forth, eventually spilling over and knocking the row of other palms down like dominos. Soil and trees and cement barrels litter the floor now. People are fleeing from the sight.

Ahead, the trailer of passenger cars crashes noisily into the hall vendors and coasts to a turbulent stop and turns over, coming to rest on its side like a curled up caterpillar.

**Watches incapacitated: 3.5/4**  
Leo’s watch - incorrect time  
Pika’s watch - missing  
Gon’s watch - waterlogged  
Killua’s watch - lost in battle

####  12:25 PM - GENTHRU 

YOU IDIOTS!” Genthru spat. “I told you to keep the officers distracted, not turn the whole mall into a shitshow!”

Hisoka and Illumi stare at him, too self-satisfied to care.

“Now I can’t walk TWO FEET without someone spotting me!”

This whole terrorist threat-thing I got going here is in danger of completely blowing over. No-one’s paying attention to the riddles I sent in. I’ve been waiting like two hours now.”

Hisoka looks glum. “To be honest, Genthru, nobody gives a damn.”

“STOP SAYING THAT! OH MY GOD!” Genthru presses both hands on his temples like an old woman with a massive hangover.

“Why are you guys even HERE!”

“For the _fun,_ of course.”

“And the spoils.”

He peeks through a window in his fingers. ”Those stuffed animals - wait, did you get what I asked?”

Illumi hands him the white dog plushie from the claw machine.

“Atleast you did something right.”

He cuts the belly of the dog open with a knife, cranks an egg timer full-tilt with both hands and stuffs it in. “I’m running out of explosives but we need a few more decoys.” Always the effective planner.

“The Build-A-Bear ones are easier for this, you know.” He looks pointedly at them. “They have little velcro clasps. Agh, nevermind.”

“You didn’t give us any money.”

“Whatever, atleast it’ll still be believable.”

He hands it back.

“You go put this in the spot. I can’t risk being seen walking with these anymore. I’m going to go get GameStop on the phone again.”

####  12:27 PM - PIKA AND THE BOY WITH THE TONGUE TATTOO 

At last, Kurapika has Chrollo cornered at the end of a wing, separated from his flighty nerf-toting friends.

Kurapika’s eyes flash. “Somebody needs to teach you a lesson in civility.”  
Of course the picture might be more effective if it wasn’t a grown-ass man in a suitcoat and glassy pleather boots agitated and puffing over chasing down some teenagers. His jacket’s top button has undone and the beginnings of “Aint nobody’s Bitch” is starting to peek out.

Chrollo takes him for a fool, but then looks him up and down and gets a different impression - that suit, that jacket, the jewelry he doesn’t notice as clearly tacky.. Did he actually manage to piss off the honest-to-god Mafia? He wasn’t sure. But then again he does look like he wants to put his feet in cement or something.

“W-what’ll you give me if I return the bag? It seems kind of _important._ ” He putters through ragged gasps. “Probably something wicked expensive or illegal, eh?” 

“Just hand the bag back.” Kurapika moves in closer. “What are parents teaching you kids these days anyway.. And getting tattoos so young.”

“Hey!! No closer, man.” Chrollo shakily brandishes a butterfly knife from his jacket. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Kurapika mutters, holding a steely stare. “You don’t even know who you’re dealing with.” Kurapika says, chin in the air. “And let me tell you, you won’t want to get on me or my family’s bad side.” He points. “Now, hand it over like a good boy.” 

_Family!?!_ Chrollo hangs uneasily on this statement.

“You want what’s in the bag that badly huh?”

He slaps the knife out of Chrollo’s hand before he can react and grabs the case, unlatching it.

Chrollo lunges to pick up his knife again, but is caught in the middle nad...

“Here.” He drags out a canister and spritzes it on Chrollo’s hair. 

“GAH!” He drops the knife and stumbles, fully expecting the mist to be some offensive substance like Pepper Spray or Chloroform. He leans against a cement pillar for a second, burying his face into the elbow of his sleeve and rubbing. 

By this time, the officers have caught up and surrounded Chrollo, half seated.

Chrollo looks up at Kurapika with burning red eyes.

Kurapika looks at him over the horizon of his metal-rim sunshades with what he meant as a look of concern and sympathy but again, with the clothes is taken as a yakuza-like air of confidence and rich disappointment. 

Another officer laughed acidly. “So we finally got you on the record, son. Today might be your last day at the mall after all.”

“No, go easy on the lad, he just needs a little time out.”

The cops look deflated, and start to hoist him off the ground.

“You stupid cops are supposed to be catching Genthru! What are you bothering me for?!”

The cops hesitated. “What? You guys working together now?”

“What’s he talking about?” Kurapika ventured.

“Well funny thing, one of our local crackpots today decided to send us some cute idle threats and riddles but he’s just a troublemaker. --”

A cop nudges him. “Hey, that’s a need to know basis.”

They walked off with Chrollo in tow without further discussion.

What was that all about?

Kurapika stands there, hands on his hips ( where all that running is really starting to smart ), resting a foot tendon with one leg akimbo, watching with rapt wonder at the cops take the boy away for what seems like an eon while catching his breath.

Mallgoers stream by.

One of them, a lady, stops by and sizes up Kurapika; she starts to pick and preen at Kurapika’s coat without making eye contact or so much as a hello. 

Holy personal space invasion!

“Hey!” Kurapika snaps.

“Oooah!!” The woman jumps backward a few steps. “I thought you were one of those things!” Pointing around behind him, before embarrassingly shuffling away.

He looks behind him; a stand of finely dressed mannequins parade in front of a clothing store.

He looks down at his clothes again, pinching the ends of his suit coat up.

* * *

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	10. ASSASSIN

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####  12:10 PM - LEORIO AT BUILD A BEAR 

Completely unaware of the situation unfolding in the floors below, Leorio looks around and sees the sign for Build-A-Bear. Some kind of stuffed animal gift sore? This might make a cute sort of gift for Kurapika along with the CD, he thinks. He almost crosses into the thresshold of the store when he hears his phone chime.

_Dooodledoodleoooooo~ 🎵_

He hangs back out by the entrance to take it but people nearby glare at him in a mixture of curiosity and horror at the sudden use of a cellphone.

“Ehh, I’ll take it later.”

He clicks end call on his phone, turns around and this time enters the store.

As if on cue, right after crossing into boundary into the store, Build-A-Bear’s speaker system starts playing Phil Collins’ Sussudio.

**This isn’t real life, is it?**

**Phil Rage Meter: 3/4**

I’m going to have a stroke.

It’s like it’s… following me. He looks around.

He bolts out and waits for it to pass before entering again.

===

Leorio looks around at all stuffed animal options, a lot of expensive ones, feeling a bit embarrassed because it is mostly parents and little kids picking up cute toys. He avoids the gaze of the help staff as much as possible. He deliberates on a few before selecting a yellow kitty that sort of reminds him of Kurapika’s blond hair and catty (I)_(I) expression.

“Is that the one you want to purchase, sir?” A staff asks sweetly.

“Uhh… Yeah.” 

“Well if you just step right over here, I can explain to everyone at the same time what to do next!”

_Wait, there’s more to this than just buying the thing off the rack?_

Leorio follows and bumps into the shoulder of a short, dull man.He’s holding a pikachu doll.

Oh, an adult man like me. “Uh cute, who is that for?”

“It’s for me. This limited edition will be worth a fortune in a decade or so.”

“Oh..” w….weird.. “Are you a fan? I know Gon and Killua have been yapping about it a lot lately suss-o it seems like a popular thing.”

“No I hate it, but the phenomenon fascinates me. And what fascinates the world fascinates me.”

The man grins. “I like keeping these things close to my heart. They make me feel… alive.” 

Leorio is stricken. “If you don’t like it then why are you wearing it..?”

“Aren’t hate and love both an expression of.. Passion? I consider myself a very passionate, indiscriminate man. I get a rush riding the wave of culture. It’s fun being around people who are excited. You don’t have to be a fan to enjoy all that the world has to offer.”

What a frightening, detached individual, Leorio thought. Finding enjoyment even in the things you don’t like? How is that possible.

“I don’t get it, but okay… Uh miss, are we going to stuff these bears or what?”

“Ah right. Everyone! First off, in this bin here are the different hearts we’ll give to our little friends to make them come to life! Please pick one out and place it inside the bear.” Inside the bin is a bunch of little hearts with slight variations.

Leorio hesitates and does so. The opening is so small though, and keeps getting caught on his watch, that he takes it off and sets it on the table.

“Okay, everybody ready?” The staff is oozing with excitement, and so are the 3 or so children following along clutching their toys.

“Okay everyone…!! Now we have to put a little magic in..! I want you to… Dance on your tippy-toes!” The kids obediently do so, giggling. “Now… Turn around in place three times!!” The kids run around in circles, they and the staff are eating it up. Leorio and the collector are following along much more slowly like embarrassed junior high students at a dance. “Okay, now pick up the special heart you picked out, kiss it, and place it inside your stuffed friend!”

The child next to Leorio spies the shiny Patek-Phillippe watch resting on the sill and thinks it’s pretty, he snatches it and puts it in his animal instead of the heart. 

The attendant goes around sealing everyone’s bear.

“Did that kid just swipe your watch?” The collector says boredly.

“What??” Leorio looks over and sees the shiny timepiece slide further into the toy as the woman seals it. “Hey, Hey!”

Leorio points one long accusatory arm at the kid.

“HE TOOK MY WATCH!”

“No he did NOT. My son didn’t do anything wrong!” The mom barks back and shields the young boy, who is sneering.

“WELL ISN'T HE JUST.. PRECOCIOUSUSS.” Leorio’s face turns into a snarl. Even he doesn’t realize it but when he’s mad he manages to look a bit rough and intimidating. He’s had it about up to here with today in general.

“Hey now,” the staff tries to break it up. “No fighting in the store please.”

“Well he took my watch!!” He fumes, wanting to charge but the staff is pushing him back.

“Oh please.” The woman sneers, slightly spooked. “Come one honey, we’re going.” The mother and son turn to leave. Leorio can’t think of any way to resolve this, besides one, and it makes him pretty livid.

“Here’ I’LL PAY YOU FOR IT.”

Leorio takes out his wallet and fingers through the bills.. _“Hey, there was supposed to be a 50 in here somewhere,” He realizes._ He tsks and pulls out $25.

The lady rolls her eyes. “You haven’t been to Build-A-Bear before, have you?” She holds out her palm for more with a snide smile.

He groans and pulls out the last bill, a $20. There’s no money left for lunch but we’ll just use the card…

“And I want his animal, too, mommy.” The boy grins. The mom looks back up at Leorio expectantly.

“FINE.” Leorio tosses the yellow stuffed cat at them.

Appearing satisfied, the pair walk back into the store, purposefully talking loud enough to be in earshot. “See? That’s how you handle jerks. Let’s get back in line now..”

“Okay!”

_Jeez, who would want a kid anyways._

He looks at the animal he’s holding, a small white scotty dog with a red bow around its neck. He puts his ear to the animal. A ticking noise faintly emits from it. Yeah, it’s in there alright. There’s no more money left in my wallet for another gift so I guess we’re done here.

He walks out the door with the scotty under one arm.

He leaves the store mumbling angrily to himself about dumb kids and and annoying songs and so-on.

Then his phone rings again.

_Dooodledoodleoooooo~ 🎵_

“Hello?” Leorio finally answers his fancy-dancy cell phone. People passing by in the mall ogle him like he grew a third eye. Some guy holding a stuffed animal is holding a conversation with himself? He ignores the looks this time.

“You have them in? Great!”

“I’ll swing by later to pick them up.” _click._

Atleast at lunch he’ll get the card back from Pika and they can eat and go home.

 **Watches incapacitated: 4/4**  
Leo’s watch - incorrect time and inside a stuffed dog  
Pika’s watch - missing  
Gon’s watch - waterlogged  
Killua’s watch - lost in battle

*Annoying trumpets blare* "Does anybody really know what time it is?" Bop-bop-baa...

* * *

####  12:45 PM - HISOKA AND ILLUMI 

"Damn, I just love this song. Suss-ussu-udio..~"

Somewhere deep in the dark mall control room, a guy sits in front of a whole wall of screens.

He is joined soon by another guy who returns with a whole cardboard box of pizza.

“Did I miss anything?” He chuckles, as he pulls out a piece of pizza with a long tail of cheese.

"Check this out, I been following this one guy earlier. See, every time I see him walk in a store, I flick on a Phil Collins song. Dude’s going nuts right now haha!

"You know, you actually have to watch the monitors?"

"I know, this is how I pay attention." He reaches over and grabs a slice.

"After that though things REALLY got out of hand, you're not going to believe this -- The Chrollo gang got into a huge nerf fight with some kids and someone hijacked the mall train. It was ludicrous. 10/10. Easily the best thing I've seen working here."

"What???" The other guy said with a mouthful.

"We’re backing it up the tape for the police. I think I might make a copy for myself, let me know if you want one."

"Hey, are you still watching these?"

"Sure, it really died down though."

"No, look at this screen here."

Kurapika talking with a young officer who seems unsure, shows him something urgent in his wallet.

"Who's that broad?"

They’re following a grainy image of Kurapika walking in and out of Victoria’s Secret. (Deficit: $415)

“Niiiiiiice.”

“That’s the one that was on top of the train.”

“What’s she doing?”

They sit there watching for over 15 minutes.

…

The hell?

On screen, Kurapika walks over to a series of kiosks and stands very still.

A pair of red and black haired miscreants walk by.

“Those two were mixed in the fight earlier.”

The officer on screen stands by dumbly as Kurapika leaps out like a tiger at full tilt and grabs Illumi’s arms behind his back into a firm hold, cuffing him in fuzzy pink atrocities. Then he books it down after a spooked Hisoka, booting him in the butt and tripping him into a pile where he gets cuffed too. Kurapika stands there with his shoe on his back and motions the confused officer over.

“Yeah!!! Go her!!”

“What a babe! She got like an invisible touch, shoot!”

“Wow, would you look at that.”

“Alright, stop screwing around!!” The manager hits them in the back of the head. "You're the Eyes in the Sky for the security team right now."

"Ok, Ok." One takes another nosh of pizza through a wide grin.

On another screen, not being watched, Genthru runs off into the Marshalls with the last and only true bomb under his arm.

* * *

####  12:40 PM - Jailhouse Talk 

The Security Office

A small office inside the mall functioning as a breakroom and locker room for the officers. It has a small containment cell too, nothing crazy but just enough to detain one person. Additionally there’s a cot for people who perhaps faint or need a small amount of medical attention before professionals arrive. The room is actually fairly functional and painted in a yellowish offwhite, giving it a sort of out of place cozy atmosphere for having a “jail cell”. 

Killua and Gon sit on the empty doctor’s office-like cot across from the cell. Inside it sits Chrollo. Despite being a hoodlum teenager who just brandished a knife about a half hour earlier, he seemed harmless, or a bit like a quirk. He wanders around his cell unperturbed reading things written on the wall, on occasion entertaining himself with a whistle to himself or pretending to do a karate chop or something. Obviously not his first rodeo. He walks to his own beat.

The pair watches him with great interest.

“What are you in for?” Gon asks curiously.

Chrollo whips his head around so fast his greasy bangs flop onto the other side of his face, mouth hanging ajar with a rather stupid uninterested face. “Pulled a knife on the frickin’ _mafia._ ”

“Oh.” This is clearly a bit alien territory for the boys. 

“...Cops took my knife, waiting to get it back.” 

“What’s your name?”

“Chrollo.”

“Ah, we’re Gon and Killua.” The air grows silent for a spell.

“You guys got anything to eat?”

“No..” They confiscated Killua's bag, even if it was just full of warm crotch snacks and pop tart crumblies.

“Well.. if you like these,” Killua takes out a familiar fluorescent bag which had food in it, even if it was just full of warm crotch snacks and pop tart crumblies.

Gon tosses Chrollo a fruit snack pack while Killua keeps an eye on him. The group nibble bits in silent.

After eating, Chrollo looks like he wants to lay down or ignore them now. He hunkers down and props his head up on the wall and closes his eyes.

“Hey, how did you get that tattoo?” Gon inquires.

He rolls his head lazily to the side, opening his eyes slightly. “‘Nam.”

Unclear if Gon understands the sarcasm but Killua does and frowns.

“That jacket, are you with the other kids?” Killua ventured. It looked paler and more worn than theirs, but all the same.

“Yeah, I pal around with my buds here.”

Killua’s hunches increased. “I heard one of them refer to you as their ‘leader’.” _Is this the guy at the top of our whole revenge plot?_ Killua thinks.

“They do, but my existence as ‘leader’ doesn’t matter. They just found me and thought I was part of a gang or something. They wanted in and started copying how I dressed.”

“To be honest,” he continued. “This's the only jacket I got. But I guess it made me seem cool.” Upon inspection, his jacket and pants did look paler and shabbier in a more genuine-wear kind of way.

“So then I thought ‘what the hey’, it’ll make robbing people easier.”

“You rob…?”

“After my parents went and died like IDIOTS I went to live with my uncle, but he’s an asshole.” Chrollo looks away, obviously seeing some dark thoughts. “Anyway, not like I get much of anything from him. It’s better somewhere else, like here.” Maybe he means the mall, or sadder still maybe he means this cell.

 _Yeah, this is our guy._ Killua thinks.

“Do you LIVE here??” Gon’s eyes open with wonder.

“NO. Well sometimes, when I want to get away. Machi makes me feel like a stray cat or something, she’ll come bring me a bunch of leftover baggied sandwiches or something. I think “that’s gay”. I eat it but I don’t want to be treated like a pain. Like somebody’s pet.”

“Are they going to come look for you?”

“I hope they don’t. They may look the part but they get all their clothes distressed ‘n shit at aerocrombie and bitch.”

“What if you get into trouble and like they ban you from the mall?” Thoughts of Genthru flash before his eyes.

“That’s fine, maybe the others’’ll go back to their homes then and stop roleplaying around.”

These notes of pity and humanity coming out of the stinky bastard potty mouth man softens Killua’s resolve. 

“I sort of want them to fold this crazy plan. I just wanted some friends but now they’re trying to be like me or something.” He rolls over onto the ground of the cell in a rumpled mass facing away from the pair and goes quiet.

Killua clenches his nerf gun. He was thinking of popping this asshole if he got smart but he no longer feels like it. Killua starts to think “Chrollo is kind of relatable.”

Gon doesn’t work out the exact words in his head but his impression warms up too.

Gon looks over at Killua and they both agree on something.

* * *

####  1:00 PM - PIKA PREDATOR 

Genthru turned around. And around. And around.

Where is the sound coming from? It’s like an echo of shoes clapping, clapping, following him.

The radio suddenly starts playing.

It’s "Invisible Touch."

Spooked, he nudges through cleaves and cleaves of clothes, wire hooks scraping noisily on their metal arms.

Genthru is losing composure. Make for the exit? They’ll be expecting that. But the large glass windows of the bright outside beckon at this point, and suddenly it’s everything he can do to escape this damn mall and this horribly improper music selection totally at odds with his heart’s current preoccupation with trying to burst out of his chest and all.

It’s quiet again, for some reason, besides Phil Collins of course. Where are the shoe claps? He’s pushing through clothes.

A sea of merchandise; not a soul among them. As if the whole store is empty. 

But he knows it’s not. Someone's there. 

Why isn’t he jumping me? His sanity whittles off on thoughts.

But Kurapika is hiding in plain sight.

A stand of greek-statue white mannequins stand posed behind him on a raised display.

Imperceptively, one of their eyes shifts down.

Genthru's eyes swim all over the store - in the wrong direction.

Kurapika’s arm 

slowly

Reaches

Down

And he doesn't let go.

* * *

####  SECURITY - scotty call 

“So you guys were serious?”

“I guess the threat was real after all.”

“The suspect has been seen mumbling to himself and wandering around the mall with a white Scotty Dog under his arm. Again, spiky hair, glasses. There could be more working with him.”

“There’s no such thing as a white Scotty Dog. Maybe you mean West Highland White terrier?”

“WHATEVER.”

“Do you think it’s time to call in the chief of police yet?”

“I don’t want to hear what she has to say… But yeah, let's inform her.”

“Let’s clear out the kids in the jail first.”

“They caused quite a raucous, do we want them to be released so easily?”

“Yes, there’s something bigger going on.”

“Ok, I forgot to call the other kid’s dad. Hold on.”

The officer calls into the mall PA system.  
Ahem, **“Would a Leorio Paladiknight report to the security office on the first floor?”**

“Oh geez WHAT NOW.” Leorio groans.

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	11. HERE WE GO! AGAIN ( FOR THE LAST TIME I PROMISE )

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####  1:05 AM - LEORIO PICKS UP GON & KILLUA IN BABY JAIL 

Leorio walks into the office and is beamed by two foam darts. 

“WHAT IN THE HELL-!” He rubs his temple.

“UNCLE LEORIO!!” The kids rush over to him.

A third child is sitting over there in the shadows. A black-haired, greasy looking kid with a tattoo of a tongue on his forehead and a sardonic look in his eye that says “I like getting punched in the face.” or something to that effect, Leorio thought.

“We found these kids mixed up in a fight with some of the local mall rats, causing a ruckus. We’re asking politely that you take them home now. No questions asked, just get out of here. We have to file some paperwork for the others and hunt down some that are still loose and whatever else is going on in this mess of a mall now.”

Leorio is ignoring his kid’s advances, he’s got a vein popping. “I ain’t seen those kids before in my LIFE!!”

Killua and Gon are hugging both of his legs tightly, chattering excitedly. The officer raises an eyebrow.

“What about that other kid over there? He yours too?”

_“I AIN’T SEEN THAT ONE NEITHER!!”_

“YES!” Gon and Killua shout in unison.

Leorio looks puzzled. “Um…”

“You know I was beginning to think I’d never see that kid’s father. We call and call but no one ever answers.”

Looking glum, and spying Gon and Killua’s faces, Leorio mutters. “Yeah, yeah. He’s staying over at our house..”

Chrollo looks up. Gon and Killua give him a nod.

The folded butterfly knife is pressed into Leorio’s hand. “This was on him too. You guys better get out of here, and don’t come back. We’re closing down the mall.”

Leorio inspects it for a moment. “A folding fan? Whatever.” And tosses it at Chrollo, bopping him in the chest. It disappears back into his pockets.

Leorio sighs. “..Go ahead, let’s just get out of here.”

The officer claps Leo on the shoulder before he leaves.

“I’ve got some toughies of my own. Not being their real father is hard, you never know if they really accept you. And they act out because they’re hurt. But have courage, be there for them.”

Leorio looks disgusted with the whole affair. They really aren’t my kids. But he feels somewhat touched. Is that what we are now? A family? He hadn’t thought about it.

===

Out of earshot, the new boy leans over. “Hey, your dad’s pretty cool.” Chrollo whispers.

“He’s not our dad.” Killua whispers back.

“Well, whatever. He’s a cool guy.”

* * *

_Outside of the baby jail mall office, about 5 minutes later._

“You spent ALL that money?!?” Leorio fumes, veins popping out on his forehead. Killua looks fake-apologetic but kind of pleased with himself.

“Gon did it too.”

Leorio grabs his shoulders. “I KNOW! _But you’re older,_ it was definitely your idea.”

**“And you!!”** He’s pointing at Chrollo. “I don’t know whose kid you are! But don’t go acting off. Don’t be copying these knuckleheads - ” he points at Killua and Gon, who begin busting a gut for reasons unknown but definitely making him madder, amping up the dad lecture and spilling it over to Chrollo.

“And you shouldn’t be marking up your face with tatts this early - ” He reaches out and touches Chrollo’s forehead to make his point, but it smudges to the touch.

“Oh..” Leorio backs off like he just broke a glass pitcher. “I hope that wasn’t expensive.” He blushes in embarrassment.

“Erm… Anyhow. We have to meet up with Kurapika at the food court.”

He spots the ugly brassy clock in the distance. It’s reading 1:32.

“What!?! Last I looked at my watch it was…” Leorio thinks back. It was 11:20-something back at Build-a-Bear.. Only an hour or so could have passed. 

It dawns on him. 

“Oh hell.” He looks around.“Killua lemme see your watch.”

Killua presents a naked arm. “Lost it.” 

“WHAT!?!” “What about you, Gon?”

“Hmm.. waterlogged.” He presents his watch, soaked and digital display reading incoherently.

“GOD! What is WITH this fa.. _Friend_ group.”

“Well what about you, Leorio?” Gon asks. 

Leo looks at his scotty dog dolefully. “Nevermind that. Kurapika’s not one to hold us up though, I’m worried.” He breathes. “Let’s just wait at the food court until he returns.”

“Good idea.”

* * *

All around, those kids weren’t so bad, the mall cop thought.. The dad seemed like a nice fellow too.

Wait a minute… The mall cop pauses.

Tall, spiky hair, glasses? _Goddammit._

####  1:25 AM - MORE FOOD COURT WAITING 

The group is sitting at the water fountain near the food court. Gon takes his shoes off and turns around, dangling his bare feet in the water.

“What’s taking Kurapika so long?” Leorio mutters, tapping the table.

Killua sidles up to Gon and whispers. “Hey, I got a surprise for you.”

“What!!”

He presents one lone green pill to Gon.

“I wasn’t able to get your dinos back, but I found one on the ground while we were in the nerf battle. Here.” He puts it in Gon’s hand.

Gon’s eyes sparkle. Immediately, he places the pill in the fountain water, watching it intently as it slowly begins to dissolve.

Chrollo stops spinning his knife in circles and looks over curiously.

“But remember, I told ya buddy, the package says ‘expands to 600% size’, it’s not ‘600x’!”

Gon perches on the ledge of the water fountain, staring at the results of the one magic grow capsule he managed to rescue. It’s just a little green wrinkly sponge vaguely in the shape of a dinosaur, floating in the water. The dribblings of the fountain are lazily pushing it around, it begins to circulate around the tiled edge of the pool. Gon had imagined something ginormous - and maybe living? Emerging from the tiny pill-shaped capsule. Like Godzilla from all those Godzilla 2000 adverts he keeps seeing. They waited 5 minutes but it remains barely as big as Gon’s hand.

“I don’t think it’s getting any bigger.” Says Killua, but with an edge of compassion. “You can take it along if you want, though.”

“No, maybe he is where he belongs.”  
The sponge dances around until it catches under the main area of attack of the fountain and flushes under. He comes to rest on a bed of pennies which are not doing much to flatter him in terms of scale.

* * *

####  1:30 PM - RADIOSHACK RELAY 

Kurapika dashes into the store with a melodious _Cling~_.

“Hello??” A surprised cashier says.

“I need a pliers.”

An alarm clock is spaced every 2 ft or so, and they all read 1:30.

F&c$#. I’ve gotta hustle and wrap this up. _Wait for me, Leo._

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	12. FOOD COURT FINALE PART 1

###### 

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####  2:35 PM - Food Court 

“There’s nobody here..” 

There are a lot of people here, actually, quite bustling. But no sign of Kurapika. 

Leorio takes a deep breath.

“What the hell.” His irritation has dwindled to mundane and morose fact stating. He rubs his eyes in his palms. “We can’t eat anything without that card. I'm flat out of cash.” He’s jumping his leg impatiently.

Killua, Gon, and Chrollo sit silently.

“And who leaves crap all over the table anyway!!” He brushes off a bunch of candy wrappers.

A short pause lapses.

“I’m hungry..” Gon whines.

“Well, time to hike up your pants, kids. Go, go in the pond and pick up pennies. No way we’ll eat at this rate.” He shoos them off with a sarcastic, dismissive flap.

Killua rolls his eyes, but yanks Gon’s shirt pulling him back to the table. 

A moment passes.

“I feel stood up.” Leorio finally asserts, calmed down, still holding his stuffed dog.

* * *

A couple of cops ask bystanders questions quietly near the commons.

“Have you seen anyone unusual? Spiky hair, glasses..”

”No, not today.”

“I haven’t either, sorry.”

“Well, yes. That man.” A woman in a dress points at Leorio. “I saw him walking around talking to himself with a stuffed animal.”

The cops look over at a seated Leorio.

“Disgusting, trying to hide in plain sight. Using children as a cover no less..”

The officers close in with grabbing hands.

“What’s all this now?” Leorio barked. Before Leorio can do anything, the cops have handcuffed from behind.

The children, startled, rise out of their chairs with a clatter.

“What!?! What did I do!?!”

“You are under arrest for criminal activity. Let go of the toy.” Leorio obliges, shaken.

“Okay, just sit tight over here, mister Bomber. And using child hostages, that’s a new low for you..”

“I have NO idea what you are talking about!!” The officers are already beginning to separate him from the kids.

“Yo, that’s not Bomber.” Chrollo spurns dumbly. “Didn’t you guys catch him already?”

“Oh shutup, at best you're banned after today so just sit tight.” An officer grabs onto his arm before he can object.

A different officer shepherds Gon and Killia away from the table. “Are you guys okay? He didn’t do anything to you did he?”

Killua makes a face. “No! What are you guys, high? What are you doing to Uncle Leo?”

“Don’t worry about him, Killua. We’re going to get you kids home safe and sound. How does a nice ride in the squad car sound?” He reaches to grab Killua’s arm, but he bats it down.

“Tch! Like Hell! Let us know when you’re able to find Gon’s dad, haha!”

“Huh? What are you pulling at? He’s here at the mall too, we just rounded him up a little while ago. Gon, we found your father, so you’ll be going home soon too.”

“..What?”

At this, Gon’s face contorted to mild horror.

Another officer pulls Ging along into the frame. “ _Mr. Ging Freecs,_ was it? Come on over Gon, it’s time to go home with your dad now.”

Leorio perks up and glances over with a sour expression of disbelief.

Oh God. It’s the guy from the Record store. 

The scruffy-hair-and-jacket guy looks at the tile sheepishly.

“.....Dad?” 

Ging is trying to hide his face from the boy as much as possible. Gon recognizes him from the photos though. A rather tired looking rocker that took to the road when Gon was just a baby. I guess he was in town but decided not to visit.. Gon is frozen in shock.

The officer motions him over. “Come on, Gon.” Gon hides behind Killua, who puts a protective arm in front of him.

Ging sweats nervously. “I’ve never seen that child before in my life.”  
_For what it’s worth, it’s pretty convincing._

“Huh, that’s the same thing this guy said when he came to pick him up.” The officers look at each other.

“I want to go home with Leorio..” Gon moans, tears almost brimming.

“...”

”Are you guys suuuuure we got the right guy?”

“He’s got the Scottie dog, ain’t he? The hair, the glasses...” An officer thumbs through his notepad.

A small crowd stops and stares.

Leorio starts feeling the sweat trickle down his back. Geez, I don’t know what to say in this situation.  
.  
Killua punches Gon in the elbow. _“Say something.”_

_“I don’t know!!”_

_“Just say anything or you’re going home with Ging!!”_

“W-wait! Th…” Gon thinks really hard. “They’re both my father!!” He stammers.

 _“OOOOHHH!!”_ The crowd hushes into a maury-esque gasp.

_“...What..?”_ The officer presses on, pausing their incarceration for the moment.

“How can they both be your father?” Another pushes.

“Uhh..”

“Well who’s your mother, kid?” The other asks.

“Oh! Aunt Mito!” Gon responds easily.

Killua interjects. “Well not really, she’s the adoptive mother. And she’s not here right now. It’s just Uncle Leo here.”

“Oh.. So is Leorio her husband?”

“Hell no.” 

The attentive mall crowd mumbles to life.

_“Well, is there a legal guardian?”_

_“What is this mess..”_

_“What is this guy to you anyway, kid?”_

“Order! Order!” The head officer pounds on an empty cafeteria table.

 _“Please refrain from asking questions.”_ He sighs while running tired fingers through his thinning hair.

“Go on, young man.”

Gon struggles to continue. 

“Ging is.. My father but I don’t call him dad. I never met him before.”

_Ging grins and gives a nervous peace sign._

“Leorio.. Is always there. I don’t call him dad..” Gon gives his best dewy-eyed puppy face to the audience while lightly pawing the floor with his tennie shoe, something he’s really good at -

“..but I think I would like to..”

Leorio turns bright red. Oh god. 

Nobody has said anything that nice to me before, he thinks. Oh god. Do I have a family or something. He is frozen and sweating like a construction crane at a union strike in July.

“Is that okay.. Uncle Leo?”

“Leorio blushes and nods. “Yeah, if you want to..”

“Okay… Dad.” Gon smiles bashfully.

“F*@#$# YEAH!” Chrollo breaks from restraint and raises his arms in a double thumbs down in some kind of hooligan pose. “Screw the system! He’s my dad too.”

“Oooooohh….?” The crowd swoons in another tidal wave slapping the stormy shore of intrigue.

“Uh yeah…” Killua joins the club and points a thumb in his direction. 

“He’s mine too.”

“Well, it doesn’t appear these children have been taken against their will..” an officer trails off. 

“Exactly. Just because I made a child doesn’t mean I have to look after him. I’ve got better things to do!!”

The crowd in unison: “BOOOO!!!”

Ging cringes.

“Hush! HUSH!” The disgruntled cop bangs his hand on the cafe table again. “This isn’t a courtroom! For chrissake, until Chief Bisky gets here, it’s best to just detain him.”

“Yes, sir.”

The cops begin to push Leorio away from the commons.

“Noooo!!! Not Leo!!!”

Leorio looks over his shoulder apologetically at the kids. “I’ll be back soon, guys..”

The elderly officer turns to face the crowd. “Okay, okay, break it up, nothing to see here.” He attempts to disperse all the eager eyes gathered around, groaning at the apparent end-scene.

But lo, the invisible curtain jerks back open.

**_“STOP!”_ **

Heads turn again.

“Oh god, what now..”

In the distance, a figure appears.

It’s Kurapika, scouting the perimeter. He is picking up slack, with nails that shine like justice, and a voice like tinted glass.

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	13. FOOD COURT FINALE PART 2

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####  2:45 PM - FOOD COURT 

“We have the bomber suspect in custody. We’re bringing him in now! Make way!”

Such brilliant skin, clothes so sharp they could cut. Security stands down and bashfully back away. In tow is Genthru in a white trench, looking a bit like a maniac and his arms bound behind him tightly. Hisoka and Illumi are following behind, along with a couple of officers holding a few squirming spiders. 

“And I would have gotten away with it too if it weren’t for you meddling kids!!” Genthru chokes.

Chrollo grins really wide and they exchange a look.

“He really did catch him, I saw him. Defused the explosives even! And we got his accomplices as well.” An amazed pair of officers with Kurapika yammer excitedly. Illumi and Hisoka file in too, much quieter and more self satisfied. Leorio and Kurapika share a hopeful glance.

The cafe cop group looks at each other, then back at Leorio.

"Wait... But this guy-!"

"You can't tell the difference between a Westie and a white Scotty dog? It was in the riddle. Look in the west.. West wing, West Highland White Terriers... etc.." He flaps his hand with each example.

The cool confidence roasts them.

 _Shit._ They fumble with undoing Leorio’s cuffs but a loud noise causes Junior Officer Reynolds to drop the keys.

Right then a heavy door closes from the opposite direction, and a woman in uniform barely containing her giant arms and rippling washboard of muscles appears with a cadre of officers in black with her.

The cops in periwinkle mall-standard go wide-eyed and squabble like kids caught in the middle of a house party when the parents came back too soon.

 _“Let go of Leorio!”_ Killua rasps and bats the officer’s hands away. They shuffle away from him, leaving Leorio standing out in the open again with hands cuffed behind him.

“What is all this?”

“Chief Krueger!!!”

The mall cops immediately fawn over her and burst into a cacophony of explanations.

“One at a time!!!” She shouts impatiently.

“Well this..” --- “Er…” The cops are pointing at the different men incarcerated, but choking on their words.

“Out with it!”

“We’ve caught the suspect, Sir. Uh, Ma’am.”

Chief Bisky grimaces in the direction behind Leo. “Who.. are you?”

“This is Genthru, the suspect we apprehended about twenty minutes ago.”

“No, I know that. I mean the Bowie impersonator next to him.” Bisky flops her hand irritatingly.

Kurapika steps forward, jacket undone, Aint Nobody’s Bitch hanging out, skylights glinting off his glassy black shoes and metal choker and chains.

“Greetings, Ma’am. This isn’t an airport but as they say, you’re never off the clock. My body never knows what time it is anyways.” Kurapika dutifully pulls out his wallet with his credentials. “It was I who apprehended him, ma’am..”

Bisky peers at the ID card for a few moments, then leans back.

“What do we even pay you people for?” Bisky says. “Bring Genthru forward.” 

An officer takes Genthru by the wrist and sidles him up next to Leorio like it’s a lineup.

“Look at this. The expression, the glasses, even the hair color is completely different. Don’t you guys read any of the emails?? There were pictures of the suspect on the intranet.”

“..We’re still getting used to the new system. Sorry Chief Bisky…”

“And did you see what a wicked mess you made this whole place?? I had to come through another entrance just to get around the friggin MALL TRAIN and palms that were overturned everywhere. Seems like whether you intervened or not, this place would look like a bomb hit.”

The mall cops are hushed into silence.

“And so we had to rely on this Sky Marshal on his day off to help clinch this mess. Mr. Kurapika, do you have anything you’d like to add?”

Kurapika steps forward. “Chief Krueger, I appreciate your praise but to be perfectly honest, I’d like to go home with my family now.”

Uh oh, he said it. _The F word._ Leorio’s cheeks reddened.

Kurapika lets his sunglasses slide down the bridge, revealing a pair of fine eyes that could turn a man to stone.

“And these are them.” He makes a big show of pointing at all of them, including Leorio.

Reynolds finally picks up the key and unlatches Leorio’s cuffs.

Leorio's mind going like _Sussussusss-stud!!!_ he bursts out of the cuffs and runs up to embrace Kurapika, smothering him in a couple of quick kisses like a besodden grandma who has had a little too much to drink.

“Jeez! What happened to you and all your clothes?” Leorio whispered.

“I’ll explain it all later.” Kurapika smiles and pushes Leorio’s face off with a beautifully manicured hand. “Come on, kids.”

“About that…”

“These aren’t the legal guardians though, Chief Bisky. Don’t we have protocol about that?”

“Yeah, look at these black-suited goons, they looked like a pair that just rolled on out of the underground. Shifty as hell. You can’t be serious.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what I’m looking at here, but doesn’t look natural to me..”

“I don’t appreciate your reasoning, but you have a point..” Bisky lapsed into thoughtfulness. “Did you contact their parents yet?”

Oh no, not again.

But just then, the sun appears from behind a cloud and suddenly lights up the floor near the fountain. It almost seems as though it auspiciously has rested on Ging, giving him a halo. Like some sort of hobo weed-friendly priest if you will. With the dabbling light playing on his personage, the crowd subconsciously overlooked to him.

Ging clears his throat. “We are gathered here today… to set aside our petty differences.”

Leorio and Kurapika stop in the tracks and look back accusingly, arms still linked.

“You know, there are those small-minded people who would be against this union and say, ’In Genesis it was Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.’ But to those I say, everyone knows that in Genesis it was Peter Gabriel, Tony Banks, Anthony Phillips, Mike Rutherford, Steve Hackett, and Phil Collins.”

Ging winks at Leorio. Leorio is now dying.

“From the moment I met this handsome Mod, 3 hours ago, I knew I saw a man who knew who and what he was passionate about.”

“What is he talking about, Leo?” Kurapika whispered.

“One is lucky to find another that shares in his or her passions.”Ging continues, looking over at a rather sportily dressed and prettied up Kurapika.

“Disagreeing on the best band lead is pretty small by any measure. Everyone is essential to the band, and looks like you guys found some groupies along the way, and isn’t that what life is really about, man?”

“What in God’s name--” Chief Bisky trails off.

"Come on, a quirky smart dressy femme fatale guy? A plain bagel no nonsense dependable dad guy? LOOK-AT-YOU." He gestures.

“What you like about your favorite band member is obviously a reflection of your own tastes for each other.”

The pair are stunned into silence.

“Now just give yer boy a kiss already.”

They do.

“Good. I now pronounce you two handsome devils with good taste in music.” 

The crowd is mesmerized in the moment and bubbles up into cheers.

 _“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a child to ignore.”_ Ging breaks free from the cafe pulpit and bows out, disappearing into the crowd before the cops can notice.

Leorio and Kurapika, dazed, walk down a makeshift aisle to the exit, random folks saying congratulations to them and slapping them on the back. The throng is pushing them closer together and getting louder, they can . 

“I’m sorry.” Leorio whispers into Kurapika’s ear.

He just giggles. _Who would have thought the Best Man was the Worst Man?_

“I swear, I will do all this properly next time.” He thumbs the boxed rings in his pocket. He’ll think about how he’ll sneak the ring onto the Scotty’s neck-ribbon later.

Kurapika winces from the noise. “What did you say? I didn’t catch that.”

“Nothing, let’s just go.”

* * *

Near the doors, Killua grins at the spiders, still held tightly in a row by officers and ready to be escorted home ( by force if necessary ). 

“Are these our bridesmaids and groomsman?”

"Killua stooop, you're embarrassing dad."

"Shhh haha, it'll only be a bit, hold on."

The boy in the hat turnt back reaches into the fluorescent bag and pulls out a bag of arcade tokens with a grin.

“Where did you find that!” 

“The cow catcher of the train, thanks for the hint Phinks.”

He looks exhausted and groans. 

Killua digs in tosses the coins out like rice all over the floor, making their jaws drop. All that work! And a flurry of younger children densely mob in like a flock of pigeons(excellent birds) picking the floor clean.

They wait a moment, disillusioned. “I guess it doesn’t really matter anymore. We lost, Hisoka lost.. I guess we don’t have to shake people down for coins anymore. Still stings, though.” Pakunoda winces.

“Yeah, well we still have your pills, tardass!” Nob hurls at him. “Good luck getting ‘em back we took like half of them!”

Killua grins. Boy is he going to be surprised when he sees a dinosaur in the toilet tomorrow.

Chrollo strides over to the gang a bit shyly.“Sorry dudes and dudettes, I’m banned so I can’t help you anymore. Take care of the place, if you aren't banned too. Don’t remember what I taught you, ok?” 

The group look startled and depressed. It’s the end of an era.

“Are you going to be okay?” Machi offers. “A place to stay?”

“Nah, this mafia family gonna let me crash.” The group looks stunned. “If that don’t work I’ve survived with my old man before. I can maybe visit your guys’s houses instead, if you want. If you still got those snacks, Machi.”

They never considered Chrollo as just a person before, able to visit. It felt weird, but kind of nice.

“Yeah, I’d like that. Maybe the new clubhouse… My place?” Machi offered. “You guys can stop in by the store, too..”

Kurapika stares at the back of Chrollo's head, The boy seems to be acting chummy with the rest of the fam. Killua and Gon buzz around him like a new neighborhood boy before running off to rejoin Leorio in loud voices. 

Out of sight, Kurapika grabs both of Chrollo’s shoulders and leans down next to his ear, exuding a dominating pressure. 

“We’re not going to have any problems, are we?" The ex-TSA agent reaches down and fishes Chrollo's switchblade out of his pocket.

Chrollo shudders. “No..” is all he can make out.

Kurapika instantly cheers up. “Good!”

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	14. THE WAY HOME

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####  3:20 PM 

“Jeez, let’s get the puck out of here..” Leorio rubs one hand over his entire face.

“You said it.”

“KFC sound good? Looks like we’ll have to eat elsewhere at this point. You’re welcome to join the Family for dinner if you want, Chrollo.”

The group nods in agreement. Chrollo tries his best to hide his excitement but he’s basically vibrating. Real @##@%* food. He can stop living off of Machi’s pop-tarts.

Leorio and friends turn to leave.

The giant double doors that finally lead out to the parking lot. Finally out of this nightmare.

A figure is standing in front of the doors holding something behind its back.

It’s Zepile. His eyes are teary.

“I had you all wrong.. I was watching from the second floor..”

He brushes a misty eye.

“That show of emotion, it was too beautiful. Real performance art! You sir, are an artist. Here, I want you to have this…”

Zepile shoves a paper bag into Leorio’s arms and disappears into the crowd before Leorio can object. 

Leorio hesitates, and looks down into the bag at the cardboard-backed print. It’s LHOOQ.

“Gee… I get to keep this thing now..”

Kurapika peers over into the bag.

“It looks nice, I think the mustache suits her. We should hang it in the den.”

“Above the fireplace?”

Kurapika grins and whispers. “‘There’s a fire down below..’” 

“HAHAHA…”

Leorio is wheezing; Gon and Killua are jumping up and down to see what’s in the bag. Leorio presses it against his chest, it’s not for them.

####  THE RIDE HOME 

Sweet, sweet sunlight.

“Alrighty, everyone into the Saturn.”

“One, two, three..” So, since when did we pick up an extra kid?” Kurapika muses.

Chrollo looks sheepish.

“Yeah… He was sort of a package-deal.”

“Hey, now that there’s three of us, who gets to sit where?” Gon asks.

Gon is looking at Chrollo, who appears to be a bit embarrassed and a good two heads taller than the other two at 16. Gon is about to reason the height and age difference would favor Chrollo but Killua beats him to it.

“Nuh uh. No. We’ve been in this family longer than he has, he gets the bitch seat.”

Killua opens the passenger side door and pulls the passenger chair back.

“After you, Chrollo.” He sheepishly bends and tries to squeeze in. Killua shoves on his back until he squeezes past the door frame and is stuffed into the back. Chrollo picks up the tiny baby belt and sashes it over his stomach, both knees punched into the back of the front seats and straddling the raised console meridian.

Leorio feels the bump turns around to chide Killua for his gotdang feet.

“Dangit Killua!”

But on second look, notices it’s Chrollo’s legs.. And grimaces in a mixture of horror and disgust.

“Dang, what were they _feeding you?”_

“The only fruit I’ve had is fruit roll-ups.”

“‘Kay…...” 

“Good!”

Killua and Gon pile in on both sides and clap the doors shut.

Gon looks confused and his sniffer starts going, then he leans in closer to Chrollo’s face. “You smell nice.”

Leorio and Kurapika sink in too, Leorio dropping the stuffed animal and CD off onto the console while he got his belt.

“A little scotty dog, I love it.”

“Don’t get too attached, we’ll have to operate on him when we get home.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” Pika peers mystified.

_“There’s something wrong with his ticker.”_

Kurapika flashes an amused smile through his fingers as Leo twists the ignition and the car hums up.

“But yes, it’s for you, babe, a little earlier than expected though. Happy Anniversary.” he ruffles Pika’s bangs when he reaches over to the passenger’s side chair for support as he looks behind and pulls it out of park.

“Thanks.” Kurapika picks up and pops a CD into the slot. Leo expects it to be “Us”, but the romantic spell is immediately broken.

“Two Worlds, One Family”, comes on.

“No,” Leorio hastily switches to the radio, flips channels until he hears one playing Gabriel’s “Solsbury Hill”. On my way.. What a cheery song.

Gon chimes in from the back seat. “Noo go back to Tarzan!!”

Meanwhile Killua rolls down the window, leans his nerf gun out the window and pegs a seagull.

“Killua close the window!”

This is insane, Chrollo thinks to himself.

Kurapika seizes the opportunity and quickly changes the mode back to CD. On comes Collins again.

“Trust your heart..”

“NO!!”

“Let fate decide…”

Backseat and Kurapika chorus now:

_“To guide these lives we see!”_

Chrollo’s voice holds the note a beat longer and cracks.

**PHIL METER:**  
**4/4**

But something strange happens, Leorio takes in a deep breath… 

He sees Kurapika smiling and singing along, in the mirror the kids in the back throwing hands in excitement…

and lets it go.

“Fine..” Leorio waves a dejected hand and gives in.

##  _[Image courtesy mellabees!! :D](https://mellabees.tumblr.com/post/622472921742475264/heres-my-piece-for-hxhbigbang2020-of-leorio) _

  


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#  **Me @ all my readers:**

# 

# Thanks for reading!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 


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